


The Sun Will Not Fall Bleeding

by TheMoreYouSew



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate names, Death, F/M, GHB is a little shit, Gen, Homestuck Ancestors, LOTS of violence, Mentions of dub-con, Pirates, Piratestuck, This is about pirates you guys, Violence, all ancestors - Freeform, it's really just kind of skimmed over but its there, kinda psiioniic too, pirates of the Mediterranean, so is dualscar, this is was totally inspired by an rp i had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMoreYouSew/pseuds/TheMoreYouSew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Red sky at morning,<br/>Sailors take warning,<br/>Red sky at night,<br/>Sailors delight</p><p>Red sky at mourning..."</p><p>The wife of a traveling missionary winds up as the victim of a raid led by a notorious pirate captain. With some unexpected help on the inside, she learns quickly how to adapt to life on the seas while surrounded by a crew of bloodthirsty circus freaks and the possessive, questionably human Captain Makara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning

If there was anywhere in the world that wasn't suitable for a cat, it would be in the middle of the ocean. Freezing waves? Constant rocking for days on end? Heaven forbid a _storm_ should come along. And the least suitable place for a proper young woman? In the midst of pirates, of course. Yet, here she was.

Although, to say she was proper was a lie. If it weren't for her mother, she'd've worn breeches every day of her life. Instead, she got corsets and petticoats. And to say she was with pirates was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration as well. The vessel she rode on carried only gentlemen. It also carried illegally-obtained books, fabric, writing utensils and various tradable foods, but digress, digress. 

The woman in question? No one else but Adeljtsä Dordi Leijon, a young, very feline-like game merchant's daughter from Finland. Her life was that of a fairytale; by chance, she met a man who worked as a fisherman for her father, and she fell in love at first sight. At age eighteen, she faked her death, fled home, joined him on his travels, and before her twentieth birthday she had married and moved in with him in his temporary home in Greece.

Eraltan Vantas, her husband, originally from Turkey, was a preacher. His adoptive mother, Nebt-Het from Egypt, and his best friend, a native Greek by the name of Taoma, were both his close followers. Adeljtsä soon became what others in the church would long refer to her as his disciple. Five years later, Eraltan decided he wanted to travel to new countries to spread his word. Being ever devoted, Adeljtsä stuck by his side for every journey, even when it came time for them to ride the waves, hopping from merchant boat to merchant boat. Nebt-Het deemed herself too old for such travel, and stayed behind, leaving Adeljtsä as the only woman on board.

There was a small population on this particular ship, only about thirty or so crew members. Whenever she wasn't listening to her Beloved's sermons, she spent her time at the bow, attempting to enjoy the ocean. Truly, it made her sick to think about what lay under the waves or over the horizon. Such an endless expanse of _nothing_? Surely something must go wrong.

"Having fun, my dear Dorlapsi? I know how you hate the water..." Eraltan wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his head on her shoulder. Dorlapsi was his special name for her, a hybrid of her middle name and the Finnish word for "disciple". She loved it almost as much as she loved him.

"I'm getting used to it," she lied with a purr, leaning her head back against his. He smiled and pressed his lips to her neck, over and over, making her squirm and giggle and flush bright red. Adeljtsä turned in his arms to face him, then kissed him softly.

"Enjoying the ocean, you two?" Taoma had the most uncanny ability to appear almost out of nowhere, at the worst moments. Adeljtsä and Eraltan shot away from each other, surprised. Taoma grinned wide and chuckled, "You two could've at least--" his sentence ended as abruptly as his smile did as he looked over the young couple's shoulders. "Get Ade below deck."

Eraltan frowned, "Tao--"

"Now!"

Before Adeljtsä could turn around to see what Taoma was so worried about, Eraltan took her by the hand and led her away from the bow and down the stairs. "What's wrong? What's going on?" She asked as she followed along.

Her Beloved shook his head, stopping in front of the door to her room, "Don't worry yourself. I'll be back in a moment."

She sat down on her bed and he turned to walk back above deck, but hesitated. Eraltan came back over and kissed her again, only harder this time, with more urgency than anything else. "I'll be back," he echoed, "I love you, Adeljtsä. My Dorlapsi." And he was off in a flash. Adeljtsä stared at her closed door after him, holding her fingers to her lips.

"...I love you too."

An hour passed. Then another. Adeljtsä pulled her legs up to her chest, resting her head on her knees. She wanted to be patient, but Eraltan’s absence was beginning to worry her. After a moment of waiting, she stood up and crossed over to the door, pressing her ear against the wood in an attempt to listen for any clues that the crew was alright.

It was quiet, which wasn’t too alarming. With how the ship was built, as long as everything above deck was calm, it would be relatively silent and peaceful below deck. Adeljtsä took her ear away from the door, but had only made it a few steps toward her bed before a deafening explosion rattled the entire ship. She screamed and dropped to the floor, guarding her head from falling splinters.

The first explosion was the trigger for the impending chaotic noises that descended upon the ship immediately afterwards. The dust hadn’t even begun to settle when Adeljtsä heard loud shouting and heavy footsteps from above her, along with gunshots, and the metallic sounds of blades striking together.

“Eraltan!” she gasped. She ran back to the door, grabbed the handle, and immediately ripped her hand away from it as it shook violently. She felt a wave of sickness wash over her. Someone was trying to get in.

She heard a voice, an awful, raspy, unfamiliar voice, echo down the hall outside her door. “Search every room! Take anything of value! Kill whomever you find!” Adeljtsä’s stomach dropped. The doorknob rattled again, then shattered as a bullet obliterated the lock from the other side of the door. In a split second decision, she grabbed the wrought-iron holder that bared a candle, still lit and flickering, to the wall. She yanked once, which was all it needed to come loose, made unstable by the explosion. The door flew open.

Adeljtsä didn’t have time to register the barrel of the gun she stared down. She swung at the assailant, turning her head away and shutting her eyes tight. The gun went off right next to her ear, ringing loud enough to disorient her for a few seconds. Adeljtsä shook her head and stumbled out of the room, too dazed to remember her makeshift weapon, or the skull it was embedded in.

Haphazardly making her way down the hallway, Adeljtsä covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her dress. Heavy smoked clogged the air, making breathing and sight difficult. She tried not to notice the bodies of her fellow passengers, some in more pieces than others. Another explosion made her lose her footing, and Adeljtsä cried out as her head hit the floor. Shaking, she picked herself to her feet.

After what seemed like years, the door to the main deck opened and teetered off it’s hinges. Adeljtsä pushed herself into open air. Without a roof, the smoke from various fires, explosions, and the hallway behind her drifted up, blacking out the night sky above her. From what she could see, most of the ship was on fire, and the way it tilted under her feet told her there wasn’t long before they would all sink.

Around her, Adeljtsä could see the crew members and remaining passengers. They were all locked in skirmishes with unfamiliar sailors. From somewhere above her, there was a shrieking in a language she didn’t understand. Adeljtsä looked up, and immediately regretted her decision. The merchant ship’s captain was falling over the side of the lookout nest, with a noose fastened around his neck that looked far too red to be hemp rope. She turned away from the sight before she could see the abrupt jerk that ended his fall.

Turning in the opposite direction, she cupped her hands around her mouth, calling for her Beloved as she ran. “Eraltan!” she screamed over the noises that surrounded her, " _Eraltan!_ " A familiar red tunic caught her vision. Adeljtsä whipped herself around to see the man she had been looking for, engaged in a swordfight. She ran towards him, calling out, but a heavy weight knocked her to the side and held her down.

Adeljtsä flailed wildly as her hands were seized around the wrists and restrained. “Ade! Ade! _Adeljtsä, listen to me!_ I'm not going to hurt you!” She stopped moving and looked up at the figure that had tackled her. 

“Tao?” Taoma grinned down at her and nodded once approvingly, as if he were saying _yes, Ade, that is my name. Thank you for finally recognizing me._ He released her wrists and helped her to her feet, then wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face in his chest and sobbed. “Eraltan--” she gasped, pulling away and moving once again in her husband’s direction.

“Ade, no!” Taoma tried to grab her, narrowly missing her hand. He ran after her, but didn’t have to move far, as Adeljtsä had stopped after just a few feet.

She stared in horror. In front of her, reaching for her, her Eraltan struggled against the hand wrapped around his throat. “So this one is your wench, eh?” The voice behind him laughed. Taoma held Adeljtsä’s shoulder loosely in case she ran towards the pirate again.

The man holding Eraltan in place, assumed to be the captain of the raid based on his royal blue-purple attire, laughed again, making Adeljtsä flinch.

“How lucky you must be!” he boomed, “To have a wife that follows your ridiculous journey across the ocean! She’s awfully selfish keeping herself to you, _pastor_. Any man in the world, and she chose a motherfuckin' preacher…” He leaned down to say something else that Adeljtsä and Taoma couldn’t hear, but it made Eraltan blanch sheet white and scream obscenities at the captain, who only laughed harder.

Adeljtsä tore away from Taoma only briefly, ready to yell at the offending captain until she was caught once again. The captain’s demeanor changed. He pulled a gun from his belt and pressed it to Eraltan’s head. Adeljtsä and Taoma both screamed in protest. Adeljtsä’s legs almost gave out from under her. “Not him,” she whispered, then got a hold of her voice and repeated herself louder.

“Not him?” the captain sneered, shaking Eraltan. Tao hissed at Adeljtsä to shut up, but she ignored him and stepped forward. 

“Please, don’t kill him.” 

The captain stared at her for a long moment, and she could have sworn his eyes looked solid purple for a second.

“And what makes you think that I’m not just going to kill you two as well anyways? The rest of your crew is dead. Your passengers are dead. My men outnumbered yours twofold before we even boarded.” 

Adeljtsä swallowed hard. “I don’t know that. But please, if anyone, at least let him live. You’ve already killed everyone else. Isn’t that enough?” 

The captain’s eyes darkened, “ _No._ ” He growled.

Adeljtsä became desperate, “Please! You can take--”

“Me.” Adeljtsä stopped and turned to look at Taoma, who had spoken up. He shot her a quick glance before continuing. “Take me.” he echoed himself, stepping forward, past Adeljtsä. “Let these two go. Their ship is in smolders, and it’s already sinking. If they’re going to die anyways, they should at least be able to go out together.”

A gleam from behind the ship’s wheel caught Adeljtsä’s attention. She looked over in time to see a man, wearing the same shade of purple as the captain, pointing a gun in their direction. His focus was a few feet in front of her, and she just about fainted when she realized where he was aiming.

“Taoma, move!” Adeljtsä sprang forward, crashing into Taoma and knocking him to the side. Before she could move, a second ringing filled her ears, drowning out all other noise. Everything seemed to float through molasses. She moved her hand that she didn’t realize she’d been holding against her side and looked at it. Dark red blood stained her palm and her fingers, running down her wrist and forearm.

More loud, slurred noises prompted her to turn around. She saw Taoma and Eraltan moving towards her, until Taoma was grabbed from behind and pulled back. She hardly noticed she was falling until Eraltan caught her in his arms. He spoke faster than she could comprehend, but the tears that were rapidly forming was what she paid attention to. “Shh..” she tried to reach out to him, her voice too soft for even her to hear, “Eraltan, don’t cry… My Eraltan…”

Adeljtsä’s vision blurred out. A darkened figure appeared in front of her and placed a hand on Eraltan’s shoulder. She attempted to warn him, but her voice felt too heavy, like it had been replaced with wads of cotton. Her Beloved was ripped away from her, and the dark foggy shape filled her vision. Her eyes drooped shut, and she was alone.


	2. Midday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I never noticed how short the chapters looked until I posted them on here. Oh well. I think they're better if I don't combine them. There will definitely be some longer ones in the future. Thank you to everyone for reading this, and please don't forget to comment and tell me what your favorite parts of each chapter was, as well as what I could do to improve! Thank you!

_Where has life gone so wrong?_ Some might ask as their masts fell, sails aflame from salvos and pitch and a well-timed flaming arrow from the bow of a light Carrack. A gathering of raggedy individuals would shriek in several sorts of tongues from the ship, each brandishing wicked-looking weapons.

Despite it being a rather compact, quick ship, The Sea Goat had been carefully gutted to make just enough room for whatever sort of extra individuals they had taken on. Its manpower was a Skeleton Crew, just enough to keep it working in good order. Every man employed was working his hardest for a variety of reasons, be it fear of the Captain's wrath or personal loyalty. The crew’s efficiency was something to behold; they took only certain sorts of cargo, slitting the throats of, jettisoning, and then burning the rest of the evidence. It was surprisingly effective.

Depending on the situation and size of whatever they were going after, smoke bombs and hot embers were flung at the oarsmen, navigators or whomever else may have been in range. In one case, a great deal of gunpowder and oil filled amphoras had been chucked onto the deck of a particular trade ship and then lit aflame, giving the crew plenty of resources to be prided over.

The Skeleton Crew were rarely, if ever, seen not slathered in a white and gray substance in a variety of patterns. It gave them a very... ethereal appearance, especially at night, which was the usual time which they attacked a drowsy vessel. Didn't help most may have come from more street performing backgrounds; the occasional blast of fire from a man's mouth seemed to set any normal crew into a panic faster than anything else.

The captain of this vessel was supposedly nigh-unkillable, impervious, had the strength of three men and an ox. The Grand Highblood, as it was to anyone who dared set forth upon his ship, was broad man. Six-nine in height, weighing at a solid two hundred and ten pounds of ferocity. He was a bit of a half-breed, a mixture of Moroccan and Slavic, fitting in with neither group. Several called him the Devil, others called him a barbarian. But truly, he was no savage after all. In fact, he was highly educated, knowing roughly eight languages and working on his mastery of a ninth. Of course, intelligence aside, his personality was a whole separate topic to be discussed… 

Adeljtsä’s opinion of the Highblood was spoken for long before she woke up in his cabin, and no deal of outside persuasion could budge her viewpoint. This would go about very well with the Captain Makara, who was more than used to her particular reaction. He watched with some amount of disinterest as she sat up, turned, and grabbed a conveniently-placed pail to be sick into. After short period of coughing and retching, she took the next few moments to examine her surroundings. The Highblood grinned to himself. He recognized the expression of horror that crossed her face as it dawned upon her that she was not on her own boat. He nearly started full-on laughing when she finally noticed him and cried out in surprise.

He stood up as she all but tripped over herself backing away from him. “Stay away from me!” Adeljtsä shrieked, “Don’t touch me-- get away!” He lifted his hands in defense, his expression unchanging. 

“Sit down. Be silent. I won’t hurt you.” She didn’t resume her spot on the makeshift resting place on the floor, but she did get considerably quieter.

They stared at each other, each with a different kind of intensity in their eyes. “Where am I?” she asked in a soft, trembling voice. The look on her face told him she knew exactly where she was.

With another grin, the Grand Highblood spread his arms to gesture to the room around him. “Why, you’re on my ship, of course! Consider it an upgrade from that fuckin’ raft I found you on.” He snickered and walk around the desk, moving subtly closer to her to see if she would flinch. She didn’t. He continued, “Don’t worry, I didn’t kill your two little toys after you passed out. At least, I’m assuming they’re not dead. But I didn’t exactly keep tabs on them after I had my crew tie them to the mast before we left. Adeljtsä paled, and the Highblood pushed the tin pail towards her with the toe of his boot.

“Why I kept you alive in particular… Well, I wondered that for a while myself. You were unconscious for a considerable amount of time. Gave me plenty of a chance to think it over.” He looked down at her as she set the pail back on the floor. “Your devotion is remarkable. How you sacrificed yourself for both your husband and your friend. You’re quite the motherfuckin’ disciple.” Adeljtsä flinched. “We could really use some of that on this ship, you know. My men may be loyal, but they’re also mostly fucking insane. Or scared of me. You, however,” He knelt down in front of her, his voice getting surprisingly more gentle, “You are not insane. But you _are_ scared of me, and in an uncooperative way, too. I want to change that.”

The captain stood up slowly, keeping his eyes on Adeljtsä’s. He extended his hand towards her, “I’m giving you a chance to be a part of something. Another church. You don’t have to stop being a disciple. I don’t want you to have to be afraid of me. All I ask is that you stay on this ship, and be devoted to my church. Join my crew.” Adeljtsä stared at his hand silently, then slowly, she turned her eyes up to look at him. All at once, her expression changed from something between fear and concentration, turning into an snarl.

She spat at him. “I will never be part of your crew. I’d rather be dead.” She hissed. The Grand Highblood stood up a little straighter, wiping his hand on his pants and fixing his jacket.

“I was worried you’d go and fuckin' say that.”

Before Adeljtsä could react, he lunged for her and grabbed her hair up in his hand in one swift motion. He yanked roughly, pulling her off balance, kicking and screaming out the door of his cabin. Her struggles didn’t hinder him at all as he dragged her deliberately across the main deck, attracting the stares of most of the crew members. They watched as he stopped by the ship’s railing, adjusted his grip on her hair, and then hoisted her up and over the edge. She shrieked, grabbing at his wrist, terrified that he might let go of her hair at any moment.

“Rather be dead, eh?” The captain’s voice raised over the sound of her caterwauling. He shook her, “ _Rather be motherfuckin’ dead?_ Don’t test me, wench. I can make that happen quicker than you can get out a motherfucking ‘amen’. I could’ve broken your neck inside, and the only reason I didn’t was because dropping you into the water would be so much more _fun."_

Adeljtsä had stopped struggling at this point. Instead, she just held onto his wrist with everything she had, shaking uncontrollably. He stared at her for a long while, contemplating whether he should throw her into the waves. Finally, he moved her back over the safety of the wooden flooring and dropped her. She collapsed to the ground with a short-lived cry of despair. He approached her, waiting until she got her shaking under control before kicking her in the stomach. 

“Someone get her a tunic and a pair of breeches.” The Highblood called to his crew. “Leave them next to her. If any of you lay a hand on her,” He paused to actually look at them all, eyes darkened. “I will not hesitate to turn all you motherfuckers _inside-out_.”


	3. Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From here on, the chapters will start getting a little longer. Time to meet some new characters!
> 
> Also, a bit of a hint for deciphering who is who. All the Ancestors will have kept their last name, and if a character is not given a last name, they aren't anybody of importance to the story.

It didn't take long for Adeljtsä to realize she wasn't the only captive on the Sea Goat. No one else from the merchant ship, of course, but other survivors of various raids. She also noticed that they made it a point to avoid her. Something told her that it was more than just because of the captain's threat. They hardly spoke to her, unlike the crew, who were only barred from directly touching her. She had a few, sparse conversations with some of the more sociable members, but so far, there had been no signs of hostility against her. She had only been on the boat for about five days when she was woken up abruptly by the captain.

"I'm not sure if you're aware how ships like mine work," he began before she could even rub the sleep out of her eyes, "but you're not allowed to just loiter around all day. From now on, you'll have to work for your food." Adeljtsä pushed herself up into a sitting position so she could listen better. Highblood continued, "However, thanks to your little show of rebellion the other day, I can no longer trust you to follow my orders."

He paused as Adeljtsä shifted uncomfortably, uneasy as to where he was leading the lecture to. "In three months, we will be docking in Egypt. You have until then to prove that there's a place for you on this ship. If you don't, you'll be sold at whatever price you're worth. Do you understand?" She nodded once. He smiled at her lack of an argument. "Good. Your first chore is to help Avashe clean out the cannons. All of them. Now, go, get to work."

Adeljtsä stood up gingerly, making sure the bandaged that covered the bullet wound in her abdomen didn't come unwrapped. She took the oversized tunic from next to her cot and slipped it on over her undershirt. To her surprise, the Highblood took her hand and pulled her to her feet. It was then that she really noticed just how much taller he was than her. "Oh, and one more thing." Adeljtsä, having already walked to the door, looked back at him. "Just because you are working alongside the crew at this point does not mean my rule doesn't apply. If anyone harms you, even touches you. You tell me."

# ~*~

It took her a few minutes longer than she liked, but Adeljtsä finally found her way to the level where the cannons were held. "Avashe?" she called out, weaving through the small numbers of pirates that were working below deck as well. They didn't pay her much heed, but they did part like the Red Sea as she came through, all of them very aware of the consequences. 

"Did someone call for me?" Adeljtsä walked towards the area where the voice came from. Near the end of the lines of cannons, a man stood up as she approached, throwing a soot stained rag over his shoulder. He stared Adeljtsä down, but his gaze was more calculating than intimidating. "You must be our newest arrival. How is your side doing?" Adeljtsä moved the hem of her tunic so she could check on the bandages that covered her midsection.

"It's still hurting, but not as much. And it hasn't been bleeding recently." Avashe gave a nod of approval before going back to work wiping down the outside and inside of the cannon he was at. 

Adeljtsä hesitated, feeling suddenly awkward. Wasn't she supposed to help him? "Uh... my name is Adeljtsä Leijon... The captain told me to come help you." The man stiffened at the mention of her helping him, then let his breath out in a little sigh and looked up at her. Adeljtsä took the chance to notice he wasn't wearing any facepaint like most of the rest of the crew was. Quickly, she held out her hand for him to shake, wanting to have some action to fill the silence of the conversation.

He ignored her hand. "I am Avashe Zahhak, though I'm sure you already knew my first name. I'm usually known as Darkleer, however. It's nice to meet you, Adeljtsä. May I call you Ade?" Images of Taoma ran through her head, making her sick to her stomach and on the verge of tears at the same time. She blinked once. 

"No. You may not."

What filled the next few hours was a dragging, one-sided silence as Avashe tried to make a casual conversation with Adeljtsä while they cleaned the cannons. They moved down the aisle rather efficiently, and were done with the final cannon a little after midday. Adeljtsä never failed to refer to him as 'Avashe', despite his obvious implications that he much preferred Darkleer. She felt bad, being rude to him simply because he accidentally reminded her of Taoma. He was exceptionally different from her friend in every other aspect that she could see, aside from their similar choice in nicknames. He was much more built than her Taoma. Her lanky, light-haired, pale, sarcastic Taoma. But, on the other hand, she felt no obligation past common courtesy to show kindness to a pirate. 

"Say, Adeljtsä." Avashe startled her by talking so suddenly. 

"Yes?" she replied, a little louder than she should have. 

"How long do you plan on wearing those?" He gestured to her tunic and breeches. Adeljtsä looked down at her clothes with a little frown. 

"What do you mean? These are practical."

"And incredibly unladylike" Avashe sighed, "Don't you have a dress?" 

Adeljtsä paused. What _did_ happen to her dress? When she first woke up, she had on her underskirt, and the bandages that were wrapped all the way up her torso. "I... used to have a dress... I'm not sure where it is."

"Hm." Avashe tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully. "I'll see what I can do. As for now, you should go see where else you can be of use. It's going to take a lot to convince Captain Makara you have some worth to this ship." Adeljtsä opened her mouth to ask how he knew what the Highblood said. "Adeljtsä, please. I know we're on a course to Egypt. Don't think you're the first girl he's taken an interest in."

Adeljtsä turned to head back to the upper level, but Avashe stopped her by speaking again, "Also... The better of a worker you are, the more he can get for you... It's not just about chores and cleaning. You have to be _priceless_ in his eyes." 

She stared at him, then swallowed hard and nodded, "Thank you, Avashe... I'll remember that." 

When she reached the stairs that led to the main deck, she stopped and turned over her shoulder, but she could no longer see Avashe past the other workers. She sighed and faced forward again, but before she could take a step up, someone descending the stairs ran into her. The force shoved her backwards, and she fell hard on the wooden floor. The entire level seemed to go silent, before erupting in a hushed cacophony of whispers, twenty pairs of eyes set into an accusatory glare in the direction of the very wiry, very frightened pirate that had accidentally knocked her down. She made eye contact with him for a split second, both holding their breath. 

"What happened here?" Everything went quiet once more as Avashe approached the scene, his voice set at a tone that reminded Adeljtsä vaguely of what she'd been told the eye of a sea-storm was like. The wiry pirate started talking rapidly, trying to explain himself, but Avashe cut him off. "Adeljtsä. Tell me what happened." After taking a deep breath, Adeljtsä got a hold on her voice and began speaking.

"He, uh... He ran into me... It was an accident, though! I'm okay! It wasn't his--" Avashe narrowed his eyes at her, and she suddenly understood why he was called Darkleer. "Did he or did he not hit you?"

"He didn't! Neither of us were looking where we were going!" She insisted.

"But he ran into you."

"It was an accident! I'm not hurt!"

"Adeljtsä--"

"He didn't mean to--"

"Adeljtsä, please!"

Her voice faltered with a startled whimper at his tone. Adeljtsä felt herself shaking again, but she couldn't quite tell why. "Yes..." she murmured finally, "Yes, he... he did..." 

Avashe relaxed, his gaze softening. "Thank you." He then turned to the wiry pirate and pointed at him. "You. Come with me. You as well, Adeljtsä." He walked up the stairs, expecting the two to follow.

The pirate turned to Adeljtsä and pulled her to a standing position, surprising her. "You-- you aren't supposed to touch me, aren't you?" She breathed. 

He hissed at her and turned away. "It doesn't matter anymore. You've already killed me."

# ~*~

Adeljtsä laid on her cot, eyes wide and staring at the dark ceiling. From somewhere in the middle of the room, she could hear the Grand Highblood snoring. Though she had been trying for hours, she couldn't bring herself to fall asleep. No matter how hard she attempted to block it out, she kept hearing the wiry pirate's final screams echoing in her head. Avashe had blocked her line of sight as the captain made very well on his promise, but now she was wondering if just the sounds on their own had been too much for her.

After a long, sleepless night, morning began to creep through the windows of the captain's quarters. Adeljtsä sat up, unaware of whether or not she'd actually been asleep. She looked over at Captain Makara, still asleep under the covers of his neatly-made bed. She debated over whether or not she should wake him up, but then decided against it. She stood up and changed into her dayclothes. Maybe if she did some of her assigned chores early, he'd be easier on her for the rest of the day.

 

She was extremely, regrettably wrong. 

 

Adeljtsä was done sweeping and mopping the whole of the captain's quarters, venturing to the kitchen to collect scraps of food from the previous night's meal so she could feed the various cats that kept rodents and bad fortune off the ship, and restacking all the cannonballs that had been displaced in the night from the ship's constant rocking. She even managed to erase the stain of blood from the main deck, and set out an empty tray in front of the center mast to prevent any more dripping blood from reaching the surprisingly well-polished wood of the ship. She covered her eyes as she set the tray down, avoiding looking directly at the _remains_ , the _reminder_ that hung only a few feet above her.

She was in the kitchen again, helping the four resident cooks prepare food when a furious yell rang through the air. " _Where the FUCK is she?_ " 

Adeljtsä paled, looking up. Behind her one of the cooks told her to leave the kitchen, lest the captain slaughter all five of them as he looked for her. She took the advice and snuck away from the room, listening only to her heart thumping against her ribcage. 

She poked her head around the mast closest to the kitchen door. In the center of the ship, Captain Makara stormed about, overturning barrels of gunpowder and various liquids, all of which was quickly caught and put back into place by the agile Skeleton Crew, who were more than used to this kind of behavior. He picked up whoever came closest to him that wasn't wearing a shade of purple and shook the servant violently, demanding to know where Adeljtsä had gone to. When a proper answer couldn't be produced, he snapped their neck in a single motion. The Skeleton Crew made quick work of casting the body over the side of the ship.

Adeljtsä leapt out of her hiding place as the captain moved towards another poor, doomed soul. "Stop!" She ran towards him, waving her arms to get his attention and prevent him from breaking anyone else's bones. "Stop, don't hurt her! I'm here, I'm right here."

Adeljtsä gasped as the Highblood seized her arm and bent it sharply behind her, then grabbed her head in his hands as if he were about to end her life just as well. "Where... were you... _Where the MOTHERFUCK were you?_ " 

"I couldn't sleep!" Adeljtsä tried to get her explanation out faster than she could process the words she was saying. "I was awake when the sun came up, a-a-and I thought you would be happy if I completed all of my cho-o-ores quickly!" She gasped between stuttered sobs, trembling and digging her nails into his arms. She thought for certain he was going to kill her right there. 

Instead, the Highblood slowly released her neck, and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. "Don't you ever... Don't you motherfuckin' _ever_ leave my cabin before I'm awake. You're motherfucking _lucky_ you're so pretty... I couldn't sell you if you got your little face maimed through some idiotic accident..."

Finally, he let go of her shoulders, and Adeljtsä's legs turned to mush, sending her to the ground. "Get up." The captain hissed. "This is gonna be a long fuckin' three months for you if this is how you act for it." 

The Highblood turned and stalked back into his cabin, leaving Adeljtsä to herself. Gradually, the crew that had stopped to watch returned to their daily routines. From across the ship, Avashe made eye contact with her before shaking his head and turning away, a disappointed look on his face. 

Moments later, a crew member approached her from the direction Avashe had left in. "Darkleer wanted me to give you this." Said the man, who also wore no facepaint, and slurred his V's and W's. He held out a small bundle of food, just a sandwich and some sliced fish.

"The fuck are you waiting for?" The man demanded when she hesitated a moment too long, "It's the guy's fuckin' lunch that he's givin' to you, at least pretend to be appreciative."

Adeljtsä blinked, "His lunch?"

"Are you deaf? Yes, his lunch. You obviously aren't getting fed today, which is your own fucking fault. Just take the goddamed food." 

Hesitantly, Adeljtsä picked up the thin slices of fish and took them. "He can keep the sandwich. He deserves to eat more than I do."

"Well, if that's not the fucking gospel truth..." The man scowled and fixed his posture. He walked off without so much as a goodbye. 

As Adeljtsä ate the first couple pieces of the fish, she let her gaze wander towards the horizon of the sea. Three months til Egypt. Avashe was right, she couldn't just be hardworking. 

She had to make herself priceless.


	4. Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this so far!! I'm really glad that people like this. I'm trying to get a chapter up at least every few days, but things at school are getting busy.
> 
> Be sure to comment and tell me what your favorite part of each chapter is! I love hearing feedback from you guys.

The next three months passed rapidly. Adeljtsä kept a very tentative friendship with Avashe, still refusing to call him Darkleer. In return, he began to refer to her by her middle name, which was annoying, but didn't upset her like 'Ade' did. It was like their own little game. Adeljtsä enjoyed it. She was still not allowed to be touched, but luckily there were no more incidents. The wiry pirate had been taken down a week after he was made an example of.

She spent as much time as she could helping Avashe, either with his master gunner duties at the cannons, or basic repairs. She learned that he was Persian, like the captain, but he wasn't nearly as loud. If the Highblood were fire, Avashe was water, cool and easygoing, with a temper like ice. He had his moments of sarcasm, which were often both surprising and amusing. Adeljtsä tried to ignore how much he reminded her of Taoma. She also tried to ignore the amount of food, however minimal, that he gave to her. He always insisted she eat half of whatever he had, as she often wasn't fed otherwise. 

Despite how much they appreciated each other's company, it quickly became difficult for her to find any moment that the captain wasn't watching her. He became increasingly possessive over the course of the three months, like a child with a toy, and it was obvious he favored her. He even gave her a real blanket for her to sleep under. It always smelled distinctly of smoke. Adeljtsä sometimes wondered what pillaged ship it came from.

Occasionally, she'd have to work at night, while the crew slept. One of the Skeleton Crew would be assigned to watch over her, and they'd usually both spend the entire night in silence, both wanting nothing more than be just be asleep. On these nights, she would distract herself with memories of her and Eraltan. Oh, did she miss him. She dwelled on the thought that he survived the raid. Maybe he was looking for her? Him and Taoma both? If they were, how could they ever find her?

"Hey," the pirate who was keeping watch snapped his fingers in front of her face. She shook her head and looked up at him. 

"Sorry. Did you say something?" 

"Yeah. I said quit your fuckin' daydreaming. The sooner you're done cleaning, the sooner I can sleep. Get back to work." 

Adeljtsä frowned, but complied anyways, scrubbing harder at the deck of the ship. "What were you even thinking about that could be so damn wonderful?" He grumbled. She looked up again, taking a moment to survey him before replying. He was the same pirate who had brought Avashe's lunch to her months ago. The Boatswain, she had learned. Like Avashe, he didn't wear his facepaint, but he did have two long, jagged scars that ran across his face. He glared at her and everything else he looked at.

"I was thinking of my husband." She answered. 

He snorted, "The dead one? How nice that you can keep him alive in memory." 

Adeljtsä hissed, "He's not dead! I mean... I don't believe he's dead." 

The pirate rolled his eyes, "Oh, please, sob me a fuckin' ocean. It's not like he'd come rescue you even if he were alive. We'll be in Egypt by tomorrow, and after that, you'll be long gone."

Adeljtsä huffed loudly, sitting up and glowering at him, "Just what have I done to make you so mad at me? Nothing! I've done nothing to you, hell, we hardly even see each other, yet you always act like I'm some child you need to talk down to. Even the captain doesn't speak so rudely to me, and he's the one who fucking kidnapped me in the first place!"

"Show some respect!" The pirate jerked his hand back as if he were going to hit her, making Adeljtsä instinctively guarded her head. "I... don't... need... to speak to some  _servant_ to know I don't like them." He relaxed, lowering his hand slowly. "Frankly, you should be honored that _Dualscar fuckin' Ampora_ is bothering to talk to you."

Now it was Adeljtsä's turn to look incredulous. "Dualscar..? Is that really what they call you?" She bit her tongue, holding back a laugh. Dualscar! For two scars? How uncreative! 

"Should it be anything else?" Dualscar snapped at her, "They aren't _names_ , you fucking imbecile, they're _descriptions_. If you haven't noticed, some of the crew aren't exactly the brightest. They can't remember names, but they sure as hell will know who you are if you make yourself distinctive. It's one of the reasons so many of us wear that facepaint. It's not just to scare the shit out of some worthless sailboat captain." Dualscar leaned back, crossing his arms and sighing, "Besides. 'Dualscar' is a good name regardless. It sounds powerful. Perfect for a captain."

Adeljtsä tilted her head at him. He seemed to take a moment to realize what he said, and he uncrossed his arms with a start when he did. "I said get back to work!" He shouted at her, "If I tell Captain Makara you're slacking again, he just might 'forget' to feed you tomorrow!"

# ~*~

The next morning, Adeljtsä woke up earlier than she expected to. She got dressed quickly, but before she left to start on her chores, the Highblood entered the cabin. "Good, you're up and ready. We'll be docking in a few minutes. You're not working today."

She followed him out of the quarters and onto the main deck, where Dualscar, Avashe, four other Skeleton Crew members were waiting for them. One of the members who she didn't know the name of was holding the end of a rope, which had been looped into handcuffs on another servant she vaguely remembered seeing before. Before she realized what was happening, the captain was standing in front of her, holding her hands together as he wound a rope around her wrists. Adeljtsä paled, "Y-you really are going to sell me..."

She didn't understand. She had worked so hard, did everything she was told to and then some. She could hardly remember the last time she had upset the captain. Had she not proved herself? Avashe's words rang in her head. She had to be priceless. Any lower than that was just a larger amount of gold to get for her. The captain didn't answer. He tugged on the rope to secure it, before taking the other end and turning to the other seven people watching him. "Alright, lads. Let's get a move on, shall we?" 

Adeljtsä was pulled along towards the boarding dock by the Highblood, who took lead of the small group. More of the crew slowly gathered, some carrying sacks or even entire barrels. She could clearly see the pier they would be stopping at, and she suddenly remembered it had been almost four months since she last walked on land. She was familiar to the sight of land approaching, what with how many stops the Sea Goat had made on her way from the middle of the Tyrrhenian sea to Egypt, but she had never been permitted off the boat. 

"We'll be landing in Ezbet El-Borg," Captain Makara announced. Not even five minutes later, the Carrack dropped anchor next to the pier. Adeljtsä followed the captain closely as they maneuvered through the crowd of the boardwalk, though it wasn't like she had much choice. He kept a firm grip on her makeshift handcuffs. Behind her, she could hear Avashe's familiar heavy footsteps, as well as the quiet, casual chittering between some of the Skeleton Crew that she didn't recognize. Before long, they began approaching what looked to be a very small marketplace, but it became much more obvious that it was an auction as they got closer. Adeljtsä's heart dropped into her stomach. She stopped walking out of pure fear, only to almost be yanked right off her feet by the Highblood, who seemed to have been wanting to keep her closer than usual to him.

A man who she could only assume was the host of the auction walked up to Captain Makara. They conversed for a moment, switching from Sabir, as she had usually heard him speak in, to full Arabic. Luckily, she could still understand a large portion of the conversation.

"Redglare, if you will." The captain turned to a crew member that wore her facepaint in the shape of a dragon mask, and without a word she handed the auction host the rope that was leading the other servant. 

"Just this one?" The host asked, looking pointedly in Adeljtsä's direction. 

Captain Makara pulled her closer, "Oh, no, no. This one is mine. She's too priceless to be sold."

Adeljtsä felt herself breathe a heavy sigh of relief. She had done it. The auctioneer left, trailing the servant along behind him. Suddenly, the girl attempted to pull away, screaming angrily in an Eastern language that Adeljtsä couldn't understand. The captain didn't make any effort to help get a hold of her. She wasn't his problem now. 

"Darkleer, Redglare, stay here until the auction is over to collect the money." Avashe nodded, and he and Redglare stepped away from the group. As the captain led the remaining four crew members away, Adeljtsä caught a glimpse of the servant, now being restrained by the host and two other assistants.

"Sir, can I ask you something?" Dualscar was the one to speak up. The captain grunted in response, looking like he wasn't actually listening. "Why did you keep her? I mean, the pastor's wife." Dualscar continued, "What's so special about her? She's just another wench, right?" The Highblood stopped suddenly, and Adeljtsä ran into his side.

He turned to Dualscar, who sucked in a quiet breath and held his tongue. "Is there a punchline to this?" The captain asked.

Dualscar shook his head no. 

"If you're not telling a joke, I'd advise you to _shut the fuck up_." 

Dualscar got the message. He swallowed hard and stepped back, falling into line at the end of the group. The captain looked down at Adeljtsä. "What about you? Do you think you're special?" 

Adeljtsä tilted her head, "Am I supposed to?" 

"...Good answer. Smart girl." The captain replied with a grin. He ruffled her hair before continuing to walk. 

As Adeljtsä looked around, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen this port before. While she had been to many docks during her travels with Eraltan and Taoma, this one felt much more familiar. Much more... homelike. She shook her head and ignored the thought. Up ahead, she could see where the city began to get denser as it got further from the docks. Along the boardwalk were many little vendor's stands, selling things like candies to small children, jewelry, clothes, shoes, large and small intricate, woven tapestries, and all kinds of handcrafted goods. She could spot more Skeleton Crew members, selling and buying their own wares, a few of them picking the pockets of unsuspecting shoppers.

Before long, they arrived at a much larger marketplace. Captain Makara turned to the crew behind him and dismissed them to go and explore and look at the wares as they pleases. "If you're going to buy it, you're going to carry it," he added on, "You lot are some of my brightest. I expect you to know how to behave yourselves. We leave in the evening, before sundown." The four pirates dispersed, but not before Dualscar could shoot a glare at Adeljtsä without the captain noticing.

Multiple languages filled the air as Adeljtsä was led through the bustling area, each new conversation catching her attention. The captain yanked on the rope holding her hands together, jerking her forward and making her walk faster, "Pick up the pace a bit." He ordered, "I can't have you trailing. Who knows how lost you'd get in this place?"

Suddenly, the same feeling from before returned. Adeljtsä knew this place. She just had to. But from _where_? She heard a voice swear loudly in Arabic, and turned to see two people arguing over who saw an item first. A girl holding a fan in front of her face approached the Highblood, batting her eyelashes and speaking too soft for Adeljtsä to hear. He ignored the girl and continued walking. She huffed and stepped on his foot before going in the opposite direction.

There wasn't much conversation between Adeljtsä and the captain. She felt like she should've at least thought of something to talk about, but another part of her was warning her to not say anything until she was spoken to. The Highblood made his way through the marketplace with ease, stopping every so often to survey a merchant booth. He hardly bought anything.

"What the _hell_ do you mean I can only get one bolt? I've always gotten _three_ for this same price!" Adeljtsä turned sharply. That voice, oh god, that _voice_. 

She looked around wildly for whoever spoke, until her eyes finally settled on a woman who looked as if she was only just being hit with the signs of aging, arguing with a fabric-seller with more than enough energy to get her point across. Adeljtsä made a loud, startled sound, feeling so elated that she was almost nauseous. The woman heard the sound and looked over, and suddenly her eyes lit up like a blind man seeing a sunset for the first time.

"Nebt-Het?" Adeljtsä whispered. It had been two years since she'd last seen her mother-in-law, before she had left for the sea with Eraltan and Taoma.

Unfortunately, the Highblood also heard the sound Adeljtsä made, and he turned around to glare at her. "What do you think you're doing?" He hissed. He saw the look on her face and paused, then looked over in the same direction as she was. "...Stop staring. Were you never taught manners?" Adeljtsä fumbled for an answer. She looked over to the woman again, but she had vanished in the crowd. "Nevermind," the captain continued, "The sun is getting low, and I'm done here. Let's get back to the ship."

# ~*~

Adeljtsä stood by the pier. She had been instructed to wait patiently while the crew loaded the ship up, and the rope that cuffed her wrists were tied around a piece of metal curving out of the wooden pole beside her. The horizon had yet to light up in the golden colors of the sunset, but she could feel the anxiety of some of the crewmembers as they hurried to get everything in place on time, all of them some levels of fearful of the captain's temper.

"It's her! I just know it!" Adeljtsä looked up at the sound of Nebt-Het's voice. Could it really be her? Eraltan's mother, who had taken her and Taoma in, who practically raised her, who blessed her as she left on her missionary voyage. "A mother never forgets her baby, and that was _my_ baby. Come on, boys, keep up! She's got to be around here." Adeljtsä tried to look about for her, but she couldn't move far from where she was tied. Finally, she saw the woman again, along with two other figures who were attempting to keep up with her.

Her heart froze in her chest. Her Eraltan, that was her Eraltan there. And Taoma, she'd recognize that mess of blond hair anywhere. Adeljtsä felt like crying. She almost collapsed to her knees, but managed to stay upright. It didn't look like the three had seen her yet through the crowds. "Oi!" The captain's voice came from her right, "Time to board." Adeljtsä hardly heard him. She couldn't call for Eraltan now that the Highblood was here, his behavior was too unpredictable. She only stared over his shoulder as he untied the ropes, hoping Eraltan would catch her eye before she left.

And he did. Eraltan locked eyes with her. He paused, then broke into a sprint, attempting to weave through the crowds to get to her. "You're staring again," the captain told Adeljtsä gruffly, turning around. "What could honestly be _that_ fuckin' important--" He stopped short.

"Oh, I see..." He turned to Adeljtsä, easily towering over her. Eraltan was invisible in the crowd when she snuck another glance.

The captain grabbed her face roughly and pulled her close, kissing her hard. "We're leaving." He hissed as he leaned back. He took her by the wrist and pulled her back towards the ship, practically carrying her. When Adeljtsä looked back, she could see Eraltan had broken out of the crowd, and he was watching her with an expression on his face that made her heart all but tear itself from her chest. 

"No," she whimpered, reaching towards him, "Eraltan, I'm sorry! Please!"

She hadn't even registered where she was until she heard the door being slammed shut. The captain let go of her wrist, making no more to grab her again as she scrambled away from him. "You know..." He began slowly, crossing over to a short bookshelf against the wall, "I can't say I'm surprised. I'm still very disappointed in you. I give you less work, less punishment... And you really turned out alright." He ran his hand across a row of books before finding the one he wanted and opening it. Adeljtsä watched him cautiously. The book was bound in a eerie dark purple covering, and even the appearance of it made her unsettled.

He looked up at her finally. Adeljtsä almost screamed. It wasn't her imagination this time, like she thought it might have been on the merchant ship. His eyes were solid purple.

"Do you know how important you are to me... Dorlapsi?" She couldn't recall having ever told him what Eraltan's name for her was. Her head became foggy the longer she stared at him.

"Please stay away from me.." Adeljtsä said quietly. She wanted to back away, jump out of the ship's window if she could, but she couldn't bring herself to move. It felt as though heavy weights had been tied to her arms and legs, keeping her in place.

The captain moved towards her. "You were so pretty... I promised myself I'd never hurt you enough to ruin that. "

She saw a gleam of silver in his hand that wasn't holding the book. Had he always been carrying that knife? His eyes were still purple as he neared her. When did she get so tired? Despite her efforts, Adeljtsä's eyes started to droop shut. She blinked, and suddenly the captain was right in front of her, looming over her. His hands were on her hips, catching her as she began to fall. Purple filled her vision, so bright it was burning, like she was staring into a violet sun. It slowly, too slowly, faded and blurred to black. Somebody was talking, somebody she didn't recognize the voice of, but it echoed in her head at a deafening volume. 

**_Do not resist._** It said. The voice was a hundred people at once. It was the captain's harsh voice, and Avashe's calm one. It was Dualscar's scolding and Eraltan's preaching and Taoma's sarcasm. She heard the servant's angry cries, Nebt-Het's motherly soothing, and the weak sound of Adeljtsä's own protesting.

**_Sleep._**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabir is the Lingua Franca of the Mediterranean. It borrows from French, Turkish, Greek, Arabic, Spanish, and Portuguese, and was a very widely-known pidgin language around the Mediterranean from the 11th to 19th centuries.
> 
> Adeljtsä would be able to understand most bits of Arabic (as well as most of the other languages that the Lingua Franca is made of) as long as she knew Sabir, which is the language that you should assume they're speaking 99% of the time.
> 
> Since she was mostly raised in Finland but lived a majority of her life in the Mediterranean, she is fully fluent in both Finnish and Sabir, and partially fluent in Arabic and Turkish.
> 
> The languages that the Grand Highblood knows are Sabir, Arabic, Greek, Italian, Persian/Farsi, Spanish, Portugese, and Turkish.


	5. Dusk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5, finally!! Here you go, guys. Also, thank you to everyone reading this story!
> 
> Also, bit of a warning for unreality in the first part. If dissasociation bothers you, you can skip the italics.

_"...I love you too."_

_The words were drowned out by the horrid sound of gunpowder being lit. Splinters rained down from what was once her ceiling. They covered her, buried into her skin. She stumbled, searching desperately for cover, before falling and grabbing a wrought-iron candle mount in an attempt to stop her descent. The mount ripped away from the wall and she continued falling until she caught herself on her hands and knees, the iron still in her hand._

_Her eyes opened, she saw the iron lodged into a man's skull, his eyes still open and staring glassy in the direction his gun was pointed. She took the gun and pressed it to her chest and prayed for it to go off and then she was falling_

_She was not falling. She was walking, running down a corridor, an endless corridor. There was no light at the end and if there were it would not be getting any bigger to her eyes. Bodies tried to trip her up, bodies she recognized, bodies covered in scrawling handwriting in her favorite green ink red ink **purple ink** her Beloved's sermons **Makara's sermons** Eraltan, her Beloved. Where was he? **He's dead**. She was going to find him._

_Then she could breathe. She exhaled smoke **and blood** and there were flames that wanted to eat her before the ship could sink with her. **Eraltan Eraltan Eraltan** She was going to find him. The captain **not her captain, her Beloved** gutted, his own noose, rope too red to be hemp, landed in front of her. **Taoma is** is not is not is not is not **going to hurt you, Ade.** She opened her eyes. Taoma pulled her to her feet Taoma was not there. She sobbed against Avashe's chest Avashe was not there. Taoma tried to catch her as she ran away Taoma was **not** her Beloved was there._

_Eraltan laughed his mouth was not moving **her Beloved's laugh** that was not his laugh. **Dorlapsi you left me why did you leave me Dorlapsi** His mouth did not move **CRACK** His neck moved Eraltan was not there. She turned away Eraltan was there._

_The gun pressed to her chest **the gun bit into her side**. Under the barrel, her skin was cold **too warm** freezing **there was fire** Eraltan would never **SHOOT HER** Eraltan was not there. **This isn't real This isn't real This isn't real** Not-Eraltan was not there. Taoma pressed the gun to her side **but it wasn't Taoma who shot you, now was it, Dorlapsi?** Taoma **is dead you let him die** would never **SHOOT** Not-Taoma was not there. **Avashe was there**_

_She was torn in half by the bullet **no pain This isn't real This isn't real**. She was falling. **This is when Eraltan is supposed to catch you**. She was not falling._

_She sank into the pool of blood forming under her feet **cannot swim**. She reached out for **her Beloved**. She couldn't breathe **is real is real is real isn't real**_

_She was drowning **in** blood **purple ink**_

_She was dying **call for your Beloved, Dorlapsi**_

_**Do not resist** _

_There was only purple_

_**Wake up** _

Light flooded her eyes. Adeljtsä went to sit up, but her cot gave way beneath her hands. No, not her cot. A bed, a real bed. She saw her empty blankets on the floor in a corner. She was in the captain's bed. 

Tripping over the sheets she had gotten herself tangled in, Adeljtsä managed to find her way to her feet as soon as the door opened. None other than the captain himself walked into the room. "I heard you yell," he shut the door behind him, "What happened?"

Adeljtsä stared at him, waiting anxiously for his eyes to turn purple. "You're a demon." She whispered. 

The captain laughed, " _Dorlapsi_ , don't be ridiculous. You must have had a nightmare. Come here." 

Slowly, Adeljtsä approached. He took her face gently in his hands and held it, looking closely at her eyes. "You don't look sick. You woke up pretty early, though, the sun is only just rising. Why don't you come and sit with me for a while?" She drew away from him, shaking her head. 

"No, your eyes... What are you?" He pulled her towards him, placing her in his lap as he sat down. 

"My dear, I am only a ship captain. You're still upset from your dream."

Adeljtsä felt much less scared than she thought she should have been. She hated him. He was some kind of monster, he had stolen her, and now she was curled in his lap while he acted like he had never hurt her before in his life.

"You're shaking." The captain stated.

Adeljtsä paused, "I am."

"You should relax." He threaded his fingers through her hair, petting her head softly. Slowly, very slowly, Adeljtsä let herself relax, muscle by muscle. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, his other hand moving to loosen the ties on her undershirt. "There. Better, Dorlapsi?"

"Yes. Thank you, Eraltan." 

Adeljtsä's heart stopped the moment the words left her mouth. The scream of pain left her mouth before she even registered the wood scraping over her legs, leaving cuts and splinters. Captain Makara dragged her out of the cabin, through the Captain's Quarters, right to the main deck. Parts of the Skeleton Crew were making appearances to see the show, many of them already awake in the early, waking hours of the morning.

The captain threw her roughly to the floor away from him, and Adeljtsä had to curl up to avoid slamming her head against the third mast. She landed awkwardly on her hand, and a sharp _pop_ echoed in her ears. Her arms burned against the rough floor.

"You're motherfuckin' _lucky_ , you hear me?" The captain remained where he stood in the doorway. His hand was wrapped around the frame, wood splintering under his fingers. "You _disrespectful_... Ungrateful! I should kill you now!" Adeljtsä scrambled to a sitting position and crawled away from him, limping awkwardly on all fours as she tried to keep her unfastened shirt against her chest. 

"Kill her!" The voice came from somewhere in the crowd, and was soon repeated back and forth, reverberating about the circle that surrounded them. 

Adeljtsä lifted her head up, "Please," she gasped, "Kill me." Anything was better than whatever punishment he had in store. The captain stared down at her.

"You don't deserve it. You don't fucking _deserve_ the luxury of death right now." He took a step forward and paused, before swiftly kicking her in the face, abruptly breaking his promise to never hurt her anywhere that couldn't be hidden by her clothes. 

Adeljtsä shrieked as she fell back, holding her face in her hands. "Alright, lads," The Highblood addressed the gathered Skeleton Crew, "I'm officially disowning this blasphemous little _whore_." He turned his back to her, walking towards his cabin, "Do with her what you will." 

The door shut, and all at once the crowd started moving. Someone grabbed at her hair, but missed and instead caught hold of the bandages that covered her almost-healed bullet wound, ripping part of the bandages away and leaving two new gashes against her spine. Another pair of hands wrapped around her waist from behind, and she was lifted into the air faster than the scream could be torn from her lungs. "No one touch her." 

The familiar voice sounded from under her, drawing the commotion to an end. Avashe held Adeljtsä perched on his shoulder, too far up for most of the crew to reach. Adeljtsä clung to his hair, balling it up in her fists in a desperate attempt to stay upright. Carefully avoiding the new claw marks along her shoulder blades, Avashe dropped her down so he could carry her bridal-style. "No one touch her," he echoed, "Or I'll turn your heads into cannon fodder." He left without another word, taking Adeljtsä with him.

By the time her ears stopped ringing, she could recognize the stairway that lead to the cannon deck. Avashe took her to the very end of the row before gingerly setting her down and looking her over. "Dordi, did they hurt you?" His hands only barely grazed over her arms as he checked for other wounds. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her even more.

Adeljtsä shook her head, "No... no, only my back is stinging, and my hand.... But, please, can I have a shirt? It's cold _**(freezing it's freezing there should be fire)**_ down here."

"It is, I know, I'm sorry, but you're bleeding." Avashe moved behind her and pushed her hair out of the way. She dragged her fingers through it over her shoulder. It had grown quite a bit in the past seven months, but had also quickly become far too tangled to comb out with just her hands. 

Suddenly, the wound on her back exploded in pain, causing her to cry out. "Sorry!" Avashe cringed, "I'm sorry, forgive me. I had to make sure the gashes wouldn't get infected." 

Adeljtsä tried to look over her shoulder at him, but she couldn't turn enough to see, "What did you do?" 

"I poured alcohol on it," he replied, "There's bottles everywhere. Very handy."

Adeljtsä sat in the cold for almost an hour while Avashe dressed her wounds before he got her one of his tunics. Her wrist and nose were inspected, both declared broken, though only her wrist could be wrapped in a splint. 

He kept the rest of the crew away from her and got her food almost every day. In return, she helped him do any chores that were not on the main deck.

A week passed with no word from the captain. She got to see Dualscar more often, much to his chagrin. While he was incredibly cold and hostile towards her, he was protective, though not as much as Avashe. The cannonmaster somehow managed to not be possessive when he made it certain that no one else touched her. Dualscar didn't care quite as much, but he certainly didn't hesitate to snap a few fingers of anyone who handled her a little too roughly. It took another ten days before the crew finally understood there was no way to reach her safely. 

Three weeks later, Adeljtsä was sitting in Avashe's hammock, leaning her back against his as he whittled away at a piece of wood. His long, dark hair had been taken out of its usual ponytail for her to braid and play with. There was a contented silence between them, broken only by the snores of the Skeleton Crew. Adeljtsä hadn't been able to sleep all night, and Avashe always waited until very late before going to bed whenever the moon was full. He had to wait for a certain hour so he could work by the moonlight that shone through the port window.

"Avashe?" Adeljtsä spoke quietly, in order to not wake anyone up. 

"Yes, Dordi?"

"Can I ask you something? About the captain?" 

"I don't guarantee I know the answer, but yes."

"Is he a demon?"

Avashe paused, then turned to look at her to see if she was serious. She stared back unblinkingly, still holding a lock of his hair. Her nose was still healing from when the captain's kick had broken it. Just the thought of her being harmed by the Highblood made him angrily, fiercely protective of her. Avashe frowned and turned to continue whittling. Adeljtsä rested her back against his again. She was warm, especially for how often she complained of being cold. "No, Dordi. He isn't."

"Then how does he do the thing with his eyes?"

"What thing?"

"The purple thing."

"Has he ever done that to you to?"

"Uh..." Adeljtsä stopped to think. Did something happen to her when the captain's eyes changed? It only ever put her sleep. "I don't remember. But I've seen it happen a lot."

"And what happens then?"

"I fall asleep, and--"

"You wake up, but with new bruises?"

"Y-yes," she tripped trying to finish the sentence, "Avashe, how do you know that?"

"I've read about it. He's not any sort of devil, but he may very well be a witch. It's a type of voodoo. Mind control, I mean. It's supposed to be all fairytales, but... I've heard of stranger."

Adeljtsä shifted uncomfortably. He had been controlling her, like a puppet, a _doll_. She felt horrible. She wanted to drag her nails over her skin and scrub it clean. What did she not remember? "It is just mind control?" she whispered.

Avashe shook his head. She closed her eyes, and tried to focus on the sound of his dagger scraping against the wooden medallion. "If I remember correctly, he can also influence one's dreams, put someone to sleep, and sift through one's memories.

"That's how he knew Eraltan's name for me..."

"I'm not sure what that is, but... I assume so. Haven't you seen the books in his cabin? I know you had been staying in there for a long time. You must have at least seen the title of one?" 

Adeljtsä didn't respond. A long beat of silence passed before Avashe turned around, "Are you alright, Dordi? Of all the things we've discussed, I didn't expect it to be books that upset you." 

"I can't read," she admitted. "Or write. I know four alphabets and a few languages, but I never... learned how to..." She took in a shuddering breath, "Eraltan was supposed to teach me. I was in charge of recording his sermons, after all." 

"I understand," Avashe started, "It's a sore subject. But I must ask, how did you record your husband's sermons?" 

"Oh, I didn't. I mean, it was my bible and my handwriting, but-- I mean... Taoma. He would write the sermons as Eraltan spoke them, using glyphs and shorthand. Then later, once the crowd had dispersed, the three of us and Eraltan's mother worked out the writings, and I'd recopy it all down by what letters I was told. I had the steadiest hand out of all of us, oddly enough." 

Avashe held his carving up to inspect it. Adeljtsä couldn't see what it was. "You know, Dordi, it's actually very impressive how much you know. Four alphabets is quite a lot, especially for a woman. Illiteracy is... unfortunately uncommon on this ship. As far as I know, Dualscar and I are the only ones who can both read _and_ write in more than one language. Given, we both came from exceptionally wealthy families. We could afford schools."

Adeljtsä turned her gaze upward to the ceiling. "What was your family like?" 

"Pleasant enough," he answered, "I grew up on a horse farm. I had a little half-sister, seven older brothers. My parents were still alive when my youngest son was born--"

"You have kids?" Adeljtsä interjected. 

He nodded, "Two boys. They should be nearing... about... fifteen and twelve by now." 

"Do you think you'll ever see them again?"

Avashe didn't even hesitate to answer, "No. They're both going to live and die believing my oldest brother is their father, and so will the rest of my family. It's better that way."

There was another bout of silence. Finally, Avashe turned around completely to face Adeljtsä. "Dordi, would you like me to teach you how to read?" She nodded once, eyes shining.

"Yes. Thank you, Avashe."

# ~*~

"Dordi, stay here." Adeljtsä ducked her head as Avashe shut the lid on the crate, placing a weight on top in order to deter anyone else from opening it. Above deck, various explosions and screams were easily heard, but it wasn't as frightening as it would have been to her months ago. Those noises were common during raids, but it wasn't often that the ship they attacked tried to fight back. It was only during raids that she ever saw Avashe in the Skeleton Crew facepaint; he wore his in a vaguely arrow-shaped pattern.

"I'll be back in a moment." Adeljtsä shifted to a more comfortable position in the tight space, listening to his heavy footsteps get farther away. She was well used to being hid during raids. With Avashe gone, she was left unprotected, so he'd make sure beforehand that anyone trespassing on the ship wouldn't be able to hurt her. The was already a groove on the lid of the crate where Avashe placed the weight every time.

It never took long for the raids to end. Two hours, tops. Usually, they lasted less than half of one. She could only try to make herself more comfortable while she waited. She never worried about any of them. Avashe could easily handle himself in a fight. 

A scraping sound caught Adeljtsä's attention. It was far too close to her to be safe, but it didn't last very long before it was replaced with a heavy _thud_ , and the lid flew open. She was grabbed by the nape of her tunic collar and pulled up. She flailed, and her claws bit skin a few times until the assailant let her go with a cry of surprise. "Fuck, Leijon, you're insane! It's Dualscar! Stop scratching me!"

"Dualscar? You're wearing your paint, I didn't recognize you!" She stopped and looked at him, then slapped him across the face one more time for good measure. 

"You're a real piece of work, you know that, Leijon?" He glared at her.

"Oh, good, it is you! What are you doing down here anyways? Why'd you move the weight?"

Dualscar looked away from her, refusing to look in the eyes of someone he considered lower than himself, "If you must know, we have a stowaway. I was hunting him down. Had to look everywhere, you understand." Adeljtsä grinned. His hoity-toity personality usually annoyed her, but she found it amusing when he exaggerated it in an attempt to make her feel lesser. 

"I'm not sure my simple servant brain can wrap around such complex battle plans. At least fix the crate, would you?" Dualscar looked like he was choking for a split second when she asked him for help.

Grudgingly, he did replace the weight onto the crate's lid after she curled back into a ball. "By the way, how long do you think you're gonna be down here? You think the captain's ever gonna come back to get you?" He asked.

Adeljtsä shrugged even though he couldn't see her, "I don't care. It's not like he owns me." There was a sigh, and she saw the light change through the wicker of the crate as Dualscar knelt down.

"I don't think you understand, Leijon. He kind of does. And, also... Sorry for ruining your hiding spot and all." And just like Avashe, the sound of Dualscar's footsteps slowly decreased as he walked back to the stairs.

The raid ended as quickly as Adeljtsä predicted it would. Once the explosions and sounds of combat had declined, she pushed the lid off the crate and crawled out, letting the weight clatter to the floor. Avashe soon made his way over to her, wiping his facepaint away with a rag that had been soaked in water. "Everything go well?" Adeljtsä asked as she pushed her hiding spot back into place.

"You sound cheerful. I thought you didn't like raids?" Avashe wrung out the towel and draped it over a hammock rope to dry.

"Oh, I hate them." Adeljtsä replied with a little shrug, "But it's not like I can stop them from happening." 

Avashe nodded thoughtfully, "Well, if you're really interested, that raid went fine. Actually, I even got you a present." Adeljtsä stared as he reached into the loot bad that he carried around his shoulder. "It isn't much," he explained, "I found it in a luggage cart, so don't worry about any poor dead person." He pulled out a long sheet of fabric from his bag and shook it out. It took a moment for Adeljtsä to realize it was a dress.

"Oh!" She gasped, taking the dress he held out to her. He was right; it wasn't much, but it was nice, and was made from warmer fabric than what she had on. 

He turned around so she could change into it. "I thought the green would look nice on you."

"Green is my favorite color." Adeljtsä dusted off her new skirt, smiling, "Nebt-Het always said it brought out the color in my eyes."

"Did she? I didn't know any color could bring out brown." Avashe cracked a smile, and Adeljtsä smacked his arm. 

"Asshole! My eyes are blue!"

He chuckled, rubbing his arm where he had been hit, "I must not have noticed. She was right, though. Green brings out you eyes very well."

His smile suddenly evaporated. Avashe looked down at her, holding her shoulders loosely. "I'm going to get you off this ship, Dordi." Adeljtsä blinked. She was too stunned by the sudden negative mood to respond. "You don't belong in a place like this."

"Avashe, I--"

"This isn't an argument." His grip tightened on her shoulders ever so slightly, "I promise, I'm going to get you back to Eraltan. You deserve to be a real disciple."

# ~*~

"Has it really been fucking _eight_ months?" Dualscar grumbled as Adeljtsä helped him stack cannonballs. "You're gonna end up spending more time below deck than you ever did with the captain."

Adeljtsä huffed, "You say that like you _want_ me to go back to him."

"Oh, fuck no. You need to stay as far away from him as you can. Believe me, he's good 'n all as a captain, and as much as I fuckin' _adore_ the company of a servant every waking hour, he's a threat to anyone not part of his Skeleton Crew." Dualscar grunted with effort, hoisting a cannonball over his head and shoving it into place on a high shelf. "By the way, I noticed your little costume change a few days ago. The dress is much better. Much more ladylike."

Adeljtsä started giggling, earning her a glare from the other pirate. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she grinned, "That's just the same thing Avashe said."

"Oh," Dualscar made a _harrumph_ sound, "I keep forgetting Darkleer practically adopted you, what with how often you spend bothering me." 

Adeljtsä passed him a cannonball, "You know, if you weren't so mean, you'd be a lot like him. Hell, you're almost less rude than when we first met. You've been swearing a lot less around me, and--" 

"Don't _ever_ fucking tell me I'm _anything_ like Darkleer!" Dualscar cut her off, surprising her into a quick silence, "He's just a weapons manufacturer, nothing important! And he'll stay that way! Even when I'm captain..." He kept on with his rant, even with Adeljtsä staring at him, "Captains ain't supposed to be fuckin' _nice_. I'm not the only one who thinks so. I swear, one of these days..."

Adeljtsä tilted her head as he trailed off, "...Do captains apologize?" she asked innocently.

"They _shouldn't_." Dualscar hissed, "What kind of fuckin' question is that?"

"I was just wondering!" She held her hands up in defense, smiling, "Because, you apologized to me earlier this week! You know, when you knocked over my crate during the raid. Remember?" 

Dualscar just about did a doubletake before catching himself, looking very flustered, "Yeah, I remember. So what? It was a one-time thing only." He took a deep breath to calm himself, "Your company is getting real fuckin' annoying. You can go."

"Sure thing!" Adeljtsä cheerily dropped her cannonball to give him a little salute, letting it drop haphazardly close to his feet. She turned on her heel, leaving Dualscar to organize the rest by himself. She wandered about the lower decks to look for more work to make herself useful with. She had reached the very bottom deck of the ship when she heard a voice call to her.

"Dordi, there you are!" She turned to see Avashe approaching her, holding a small bundle of cloth and smiling brightly. "I remembered!" 

He declared as he held out the bundle. Adeljtsä narrowed her eyes, "Remembered what?" Immediately, Avashe's face fell, and she felt a gut-wrenching guilt. He hardly ever smiled.

"It... Dordi, it's your birthday." He said quietly. "You told me when it was a while ago..." He untied the string that held the bundle together, wanting to step away from her topic of Adeljtsä forgetting her own birthday. The cloth fell away to reveal a small wooden medallion attached to a length of leather cord. "This is what I had been carving." He lifted it up and stepped forward to move her hair out of the way so he could tie the cord behind her neck, "I put the faces of your three favorite ship's cats on the front, and your name on the back. It's coated in wax, so it's incredibly resilient... Do you like it?"

Adeljtsä held the medallion in her hands. "I love it, Avashe," she said, letting the necklace go so she could hug him tightly, "Thank you." 

Avashe smiled and patted her head, "You're very welcome, Dordi." 

"Her name isn't Dordi."

 _ **Don't move Don't move Don't move**_

Avashe stared over her shoulder. Adeljtsä's heart skipped a beat, before thudding loudly in her ears. She hoped it would block out the voice that kept resounding about her head. She didn't know what was worse; knowing exactly who was standing behind her, or only being able to hear him. Avashe held her by the shoulders to prevent her from turning around, "Captain Makara... I didn't hear you come in..."

"I'm not motherfuckin' surprised, knowing how _incompetent_ you've always been." The captain's words sounded slurred, much more than usual, "Tell me, Zahhak, why do you think you have the right to be touching my disciple?" Adeljtsä felt his hand fall on her head, and she nearly screamed, looking to Avashe for some help. He was locked in a staring contest with the captain, standing hardly a foot behind her, and reeking of alcohol. "Let her go, Darkleer."

Avashe swallowed hard, "I can't do that, captain. I'm sorry. Dordi... Adeljtsä is much safer here." There was a pause, then the captain put his free hand under Adeljtsä's chin, jerking her head back so she could look up to see him. 

"Well? Do _you_ want to stay below deck?" Adeljtsä nodded, shaking, and there was another pause. She was suddenly pulled away from Avashe, both of the captain's hands around her throat.

_**You fucked up You fucked up You fucked up** _

"You want her to stay so bad?!" Captain Makara roared, shaking Adeljtsä roughly, "You want her to stay here? Why don't you motherfucking _kill her_?! She'd have a hard time going _anywhere_ after that!" Avashe opened his mouth to protest, but his eyes flashed purple before he could speak, and he had his gun in his hand within a second, pointing it at her head. She couldn't scream with the pressure against her throat.

"Sir, don't, please don't make me..." The gun trembled in Avashe's hands. She almost wanted him to pull the trigger. She'd be off this wretched ship... Farther away from the captain than she could even imagine...

"Shoot her, Darkleer!" _**Taoma wasn't there**_

"I can't, I really can't--" _**But he would never**_

"Do it! Now! _**SHOOT!"**_

The gunshot rang in her ears, along with the captain's laughter. Powder-white smoke formed above her head, drifting from the barrel of the Highblood's gun. She hadn't noticed he raised his gun.

She wasn't sure when he let her go, but Adeljtsä ran forward, screaming as Avashe collapsed to the ground in what seemed like slow motion. "Dordi," he gasped when she landed at his side, "I couldn't-- Dordi, I'm sorry."

"Be quiet, be quiet." Adeljtsä scolded him gently. She pressed her hands against the bullethole in his chest in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Blood welled between her fingers anyhow, coming as quickly as the unwanted tears that had begun to form, "Don't do this to me," she whispered, "Avashe, do you hear me?! Don't you dare go now! Not like this!" 

Avashe rested his hand against her cheek to try to get her to focus on him. He was smiling, and it only made her want to cry harder. He takes a breath and there's a rattling sound and Adeljtsä is positive she's never wanted to just _stop existing_ so badly before. "I wanted to apologize..." Avashe's voice cracks, "I was the one who shot you... It's been so... so long now, hasn't it?"

Adeljtsä shook her head, "Avashe, please... Please, you're my closest friend here... I forgive you for shooting me, but you aren't allowed to die here! Please!" Her wrist burned when she placed his head in her lap, but the physical pain was almost null compared to the wrenching feeling of her heart.

"Thank you... for forgiving me," Avashe coughed violently. Blood spilled out of his mouth. "And, I'm sorry also that-- that I can't stay longer, but.." His eyes fluttered shut, "You were my closest friend as well, Adeljtsä..." Very slowly, the rise and fall of his chest came to a stop. It wasn't peaceful; the sound of his breathing ended with an awful gurgle of blood that had pooled where it never should have been in the first place.

His smile remained even after the noise stopped.

Adeljtsä bit her lip, holding back the pathetic sounds that were sure to burst through if she attempted to speak.

Finally, she made a whimpering sound. She hiccuped with sobs for only a few seconds before they turned into a wail that didn't stop until her lungs were empty. She gasped for air and it only started again. Every breath hurt, every movement. She felt more weighted down now than the captain's voodoo ever made her feel. She dug her nails into his shoulders, getting Avashe's blood from her hands onto his shirt, resting her head against his. She does not pray for anything now. Eraltan could not fix this for her. Nebt-Het's motherly cooing couldn't make her feel any less ripped apart.

Grief turned to anger within moments. Adeljtsä turned sharply, sitting up on her knees to confront the captain, but was met with the cold metal of a gun pressing to her forehead. "Please." She reached up and wrapped her bloodied hand around the gun's barrel, "Do it." Her voice sounded far more confident than it should have. Her hand trembled. She had never been more serious about begging for death.

Adeljtsä dropped her head, supporting herself only with shaky arms. "No," She didn't register the captain's voice, or even the gun moving away from her. She didn't feel the pain of the gun cracking over her head. She didn't acknowledge the ground rushing up to meet her, or the darkness that fell over her vision, or the brand that had been carved into her shoulder when she woke up.

_**Two long years...** _


	6. (Sundown)

"No, we-- we have to find her, Taoma!"

"Eral, I swear, I will knock you right out if it means keeping you on this board."

Somewhere in the middle of the Tyrrhenian Sea, a single pair of men clung to a plank of wood for dear life, surrounded by the wreckage of what was once a merchant boat. Taoma, being the only one of them who could swim, only held onto the plank and kicked his legs in the water to keep himself afloat. 

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Eraltan asked breathlessly.

"Those were pirates, Eral. Honestly, who can say how long she'll even be alive." Taoma pushed the board, slowly but surely making a course through the water, "We need to get to land right now. We'll die out here on our own."

# ~*~

They had made it back to the safety of Greece, staying temporarily Taoma's cousin's home by the beach. It had only been a week when Eraltan ran up to Taoma while he was shopping for food and grabbed his arm. "Tao! Come here!"

He dragged him over to a ring-selling booth, "Please," Eraltan addressed the merchant, "Tell him what you told me."

"You're lookin' for the Sea Goat," the vendor said, "Awful ship, really. Captain's much too violent. But he's rich enough for us to let him do whatever he wants 'long as he don't fuck around with anythin'."

"The auction, though," Eraltan insisted, "What did you say about the auction?" Taoma sighed, "Eral..."

"There's a slave auction in Egypt coming up, in the Ezbet El-Borg port. The Sea Goat goes every other year, same day each time. It's in three months, so you have plenty'a time to make it."

Eraltan turned to Taoma, "Ezbet El-Borg! Mother lives near the dock there, Tao, I know exactly how to get there!"

"Ade could be dead by then," Taoma frowned, "Or sold. It's three months, Eral, that's kind of a long shot. Besides, how do we even know this guy is telling the truth?"

The merchant cleared his throat loudly, "Well I _hope_ I'd know the schedule of the Sea Goat," he said, narrowing his eyes at Taoma, "Considerin' my father is on that fuckin' ship."

# ~*~

"It's so good to see you again, sweetheart," Nebt-Het poured the boys each a cup of tea. It was two days before the auction. "I know you already told me why you're here, but it's still pleasant to imagine you're just visiting your little old mother"

"You're taking this very lightly, _Mitéra_." Taoma drank his tea as soon as it was poured, not minding how it burned his tongue.

"I know Ljtsä can take care of herself, unless they ask her to swim of course. Besides," she took a sip from her cup, "I wasn't the one who lost her." 

Eraltan made a wheezing sound, drinking his all of his tea in one long gulp to prevent himself from talking. Nebt-Het continued, "You have a day until you need to start looking for her, anyways. I can at least enjoy your company until then."

Taoma and Eraltan shot each other a concerned look across the table. Their mother pretended she didn't see it.

# ~*~

The day of the auction, everybody was up early. The house was silent as everyone went through their morning routines. They all had the same understanding. _This may be our only chance to retrieve Adeljtsä._

"I'm going out," Nebt-Het announced a bit before noon, "We can search the auction first, then the docks. I still need to pick up some fabric at the market." 

Taoma absently waved her goodbye, "We'll meet up with you in two hours." The door opened and shut and Taoma stood up to throw away his untouched breakfast, acting like Eraltan wasn't watching him, acting like he hadn't been refusing to eat for days. Eraltan left the dining room. 

Now out of his sight, Taoma started to wobble. He fell to his knees and held his face in his hands, covering his mouth and holding his breath and shaking as he held back sobs. They had to find her. He didn't know what he would do, what _Eraltan_ would do, if she ended up hurt, or worse. The thought nearly made Taoma sick. But of course he wanted to keep her safe.

She was his closet friend.

# ~*~

"It's her! I just know it!" Nebt-Het was all but dragging Eraltan and Taoma towards the docks. "I saw her at the marketplace. She's most likely still with _him_." 

Eraltan stopped, "Him? She's with a man?" 

" _Sweetheart_!" Nebt-Het boxed him over the ear, "She was _kidnapped_! Of course she's not going to be let out of the captain's sight!" 

"Mitéra, you haven't seen Ade in a few years... Are you sure it was her?" Taoma asked. She turned on her heel to face him, boxing his ear as well.

"A mother never forgets her baby, and that was _my_ baby. Come on, boys, keep up! She's got to be around here." Nebt-Het dug her nails into their forearms, pulling them faster. Suddenly, Eraltan cried out. 

"I see her!"

He tugged away from adoptive mother and ran forward, "By the dock, I see her! Oh, god, it's my Dorlapsi, she's okay!"

"Eraltan, don't! Wait!" Taoma and Nebt-Het both grabbed the back of his shirt.

"It's the captain," Their mother hissed, "He's going towards her."

"No, but... She saw me... I have to tell her I'm okay... That Taoma's okay, too." Eraltan looked back at where Adeljtsä was. Nebt-Het was right; the captain had approached and was now talking, standing much to close to _his_ disciple. It made Eraltan's skin crawl. 

The captain looked away from Adeljtsä and locked eyes with Eraltan for just a second. His blood ran cold, and then boiled with anger. He had kissed her. He had kissed his Dorlapsi. "That's my _wife_!" Eraltan's voice broke and ended up much softer than the furious cry he intended.

"Some wife," Taoma muttered, "You saw, she hardly put up a fight against him." Eraltan whipped around, fist raised, but Nebt-Het beat him to it before he could land a blow.

"How _dare_ you, Taoma?!" She shrieked in anger, slapping him clear across the face. Taoma retreated immediately, visibly terrified. "Adeljtsä is your _friend_! I don't want to hear you bad mouth her again. And that goes for you as well, Eraltan!" Eraltan gulped. She only called him by name when she was _really_ upset with him. "Follow me, both of you. We're going back to the auction, and I'm going to ask if anyone knows where the ship is headed next."

# ~*~

The auctionplace was dismal. It was still going, a new servant being sold off to the highest bidder every few minutes. Nebt-Het pushed her way through the thick crowd, making a beeline for a man in all green. "Excuse me!" She called while still a few feet away. He turned to her as she stalked towards him. "You're the host of this event, correct?"

"That I am. May I help you, madame?" He asked, sounding eerily polite for someone who sold people for a living. 

"You certainly can," Nebt-Het glared down her nose at him, "A boat came by here recently. Actually, it just left. I have reason to believe the captain of that ship visited you. Does the name 'Sea Goat' sound familiar?"

The host's face lit up in a smile, "Absolutely! That'd be Captain Makara, my most regular supplier. Unfortunately, he only gave me one this time around.." He nodded towards a bench where a very poorly-kept woman sat, tethered to the seat by a rope around her wrists and neck. 

Nebt-Het paused, "May I talk to her?"

"Talk, sure," the host nodded, "She's already been bought, though."

"That's not a problem." She was already brushing by him towards the servant, Eraltan and Taoma still in tow.

"Darling, pardon me, but may I talk to you for a moment?" Her voice softened to speak to the younger woman, who looked up and gave a single nod.

"Arabic language, not good." The servant said. 

"I understand. I won't be too long. You're from the Sea Goat, right?"

The servant nodded again. 

"Was there another girl on the ship? Another servant, perhaps?"

"Many servants. Not sure."

"She would've been new," Eraltan piped up, "Arrived about three months ago."

The servant growled, "Leijon. Captain's favorite. Little princess."

Eraltan stepped forward, smiling, "Yes, that's her! Do you know if the captain is planning to sell her? Or where they're going next?"

She shook her head, "No, no sell. She price-less. Captain will not hurt. Sea Goat going to Italy, but goes Spain every New Year on constant. Prices good."

"Thank you," Nebt-Het took the servant's hand in her own, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you, darling. God be with you."

She stood up and walked through Eraltan and Taoma, not stopping until she had exited the auctionplace. "Now you know where you're going." Nebt-Het said. "New Years already passed, so it looks like you're headed to Italy. Luckily, I know of a boat that will take you there for cheap. But... You should probably go soon if you're going to trail that ship there..."

She pulled them both into a hug. The closest things she had to sons, to family. Living family. "You know I'll always be watching over you, sweetheart... Please, bring our Adeljtsä home safe."

"We will, Momma." Eraltan said, hugging her back. Taoma nodded silently in agreement. None of them wanted to let go. "We promise."


	7. Nighttime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I LOST LIKE ELEVEN CHAPTERS BECAUSE I DIDN'T SAVE I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
> 
> Anyways here's two more characters to get attached to, and some more Redglare~

Avashe was dead.

There was nothing she could do to change that. He had been dead for almost two months now. The captain let her keep her necklace and her dress, but she was only permitted to eat if she could sneak the food by without him seeing. It was difficult with how much more often he kept her locked in his cabin, although she'd occasionally find a small bundle of food tucked into the pocket of her dress when she put it on in the morning, or under her pillow. It couldn't have been the captain. Even with his extreme mood swings and his constant switching between being abusive and being gentle towards her, she knew he wouldn't defy his own orders, even just to mess with her.

The Highblood was trying something, Adeljtsä could tell. She hardly ever got punished when she messed up, and when she did, it was never physical. More than once she had been locked in a small, dark closet in the cabin. Sometimes she would feel bugs, even snakes, crawling over her skin, but they'd be gone when the doors opened again. She couldn't be fooled; it was only the captain's voodoo messing with her, making her believe she wasn't alone in the cupboard. She had figured out how to recognize it without seeing his eyes turn purple, how to spot the blurred edges of her vision, how she couldn't hear her heartbeat when she really focused. 

"Dorlapsi, come here." The captain demanded one day while she was busy scrubbing the floor of the cabin. Adeljtsä looked up, but he was too occupied with his book to spare her a glance. She reacted quickly, getting to her feet and crossing over to him. The captain shut his book and turned away to rummage through one of his desk drawers. The title of the book was something foreign to her at first, but she picked out letters she recognized, then attached them to sounds. _Voodoo_ was the second part of the two words. Right. Voodoo. The only word she could reasonably bring herself to hate.

Captain Makara faced her again suddenly and picked up her necklace, turning the medallion over in his hands. "It's very well-made, I must say. Such a shame he's _**dead**_." Adeljtsä gasped as he ripped the necklace away. There was a gunshot, and white smoke filled her lungs. She doubled over, coughing, trying to breathe through the gunpowder smoke, she _**couldn't breathe**_. 

The smoke was blurred. Not entirely, only in her peripherals. "Dorlapsi." She looked up. She could breathe. The smoke has vanished, but the blur remained. She touched her neck; Avashe's necklace was still there, completely in tact.

Adeljtsä's heart began thudding in her ears. She thought she had figured it out, she thought she knew when he was messing with her head. The long she stared at him, the more the blur faded. If she looked away, it came back just as strong. **_He's the only thing that's real._** No. He was a witch. A devil. He was awful and she hated him. **_He's kept you alive for so long._** He nearly killed her.

"When did I ever do that?" Captain Makara startled her, making her cry out and trip backwards. She closed her eyes as she fell, only to open them and find herself sitting curled in the captain's lap. 

Adeljtsä choked, "I thought--" 

"Always thinking. You'll give yourself a headache."

On cue, her head started pounding. She cradled it in her hands. "Relax, Dorlapsi." The Highblood's voice was everywhere at once. It only made her head hurt more. "You're only imagining it. Look at me. I'm real, aren't I?" Slowly, Adeljtsä turned to face him. Her headache ebbed away, and he placed a hand against her cheek as soon as she stopped trembling. "There. Much better."

"Oh," the captain turned to his desk, wrapping one arm around her waist so she wouldn't fall off his lap as he moved, "I nearly forgot." He pulled open a drawer to reveal a flat, thin box placed neatly on top of the various clutter. Inside the box was a necklace, much shorter than the one she wore currently. The pendant, which was embedded into the ribbon rather than dangling from it, was decorated with the same mark that was carved into her shoulder. 

Adeljtsä only had a second or two to look at it before the captain picked it up and fastened it around her neck. The pendant was right against her windpipe, but it didn't press hard enough to bother her. "It looks lovely." The captain said. She put her head against his shoulder so he could thread his fingers through her hair. "You really are my disciple."

"I am?" 

"Of course you are. My wonderful, loyal disciple."

She didn't argue. She couldn't; he was right. "I'm... yours," Adeljtsä felt cold. The fabric covering her shoulders was gone, "I'm your Dorlapsi." 

# ~*~

It was raining when they landed in Spain. Not enough to disrupt anything, but it was a bit of a nuisance. Adeljtsä stuck closely to the Highblood even with the lack of the rope handcuffs. The rain matted her hair down less than an hour after getting off the ship, taking away the ash caught in it and making it easier for her to work out smaller tangles with her hands. 

"Here," the captain passed her a heavy bundle of rolled fabric, "Go help Redglare set up." Adeljtsä gave a curt nod and went off in the direction he pointed her in. A few yards away, across the dock, the Sea Goat's first mate was helping the crew set up vendor stands. 

Redglare set down a large barrel as Adeljtsä came over, and took one of the fabric bundles. "You can leave those here. I don't need help," she stated, throwing it out to unroll it. She was thin like a rail, but not in the malnourished way Adeljtsä was. Her voice rasped as she spoke. It was almost soothing. 

"The captain told me to," Adeljtsä said quickly. Redglare sighed and looked sideways at her. Adeljtsä was taken aback by the look of sympathy in her eyes. 

"You're so little..." She muttered, despite the First Mate being only a few inches taller than Adeljtsä, and it was mostly due to her shoes.

Redglare switched back to her regular speaking voice, "Alright. I'm not gonna make you do any heavy lifting though. Just, follow me with the awnings so I can put them up." Adeljtsä nodded, trailing after Redglare. She watched at the first mate hoisted the awning over their heads and fastened the attached fowls to the booths.

"What's you name?" Redglare asked her, putting up the sixth and final awning, "Your real one."

"It's Adeljtsä."

"Oh. That's... more northern than I was expecting."

"It's Finnish," Adeljtsä stood under the awning to protect herself from the rain. Redglare's dragon-like facepaint was already dripping. "...What did you mean by the real name? Are people calling me something different?"

Redglare shook her head, "Nothing awful. Dualscar and Darkleer and the captain call you different things. Everyone else calls you 'Disciple'. I assumed your name started with a 'd'. Like Dessie or something."

"Dessie?" Adeljtsä grinned, ignoring her heart relocating itself to her throat at the mention of Avashe, "That's a ridiculous name."

"I think it sounds lovely."

Redglare handed a box of various foods and told her to to organize them in the racks. Adeljtsä mumbled the names of all the ones she recognized, spelling them in her mind. Avashe had done a good job in teaching her. She could spell things if she sounded them out, she knew how to write her name and the names of people she knew, and she even learned some of the titles of the captain's books. The titles in her languages, of course. 

"You're crying." Adeljtsä looked up. Redglare stood behind the booth, staring down at her. "Why?" 

"Oh, I.. uh," She wiped her face on her sleeve, "I'm not. It's just the rain."

Redglare shook her head, "Don't lie to me, I can tell the difference. Your eyes are all red and puffy. You're crying." She paused. "It's because of Darkleer, isn't it? I'm... sorry. Captain Makara is very touchy about his possessions. It's not the first time he's killed a crew member over one of his pets." 

"Avashe mentioned that," Adeljtsä said, "Who was she? And... where is she?" 

Redglare moved around the booth to crouch next to her. "Honestly? I don't remember much about her. She was blind, though. That's one of the reasons why we bonded."

"You're blind?" Adeljtsä gasped. 

"No, no, no. But I'm incapable of feeling. Physically, I mean. My skin doesn't respond to... anything. Not even the rain. I assume it's cold, though, based on how much you're shaking. Then again, you're almost always shaking." 

Redglare gave a little shrug, "But, I don't mind the lack of feeling. I'm used to it. Just like the girl was used to being blind. She was on the ship for years. I tried to protect her without upsetting the captain, and apparently someone else was a little less careful about it... He killed two of my crewmates. Hung 'em up by their entrails like he always does."

She looked over at the rows of food and nodded in approval. "You did a good job. If you'd like, you can get the signs from Loophole and hang them up. She's down the pier. That way." Redglare pointed towards a busier part of the dock, where other Skeleton Crewmembers were walking. 

Adeljtsä got to get feet, "Redglare, can I asked what happened to her? The girl, I mean?"

"You can," The First Mate lifted a barrel onto her shoulder, about to walk in the opposite direction to be useful somewhere else, "Y'might not get a good answer, though. I'm not sure what happened to her. She vanished few days after Vanguard died. Probably walked right over the edge of the ship by accident. Stranger than that, the captain acted like she never existed, and soon enough so did everyone else. Me included."

Tears were forming in the pirate's eyes. Adeljtsä's voice softened, "You're crying..."

Redglare smiled wholeheartedly at her. "No, Dessie. It's just the rain."

Adeljtsä took her cue to leave as soon as Redglare walked off. She was greeted by the Skeleton Crew with whispers of _don't touch her_ and _why is she away from him?_ , and mumbles about her collar and _captain's pet_. Adeljtsä narrowed her eyes and lifted her head, walking at a determined pace. "Can you tell me where I can find Loophole?" She asked a pair of crewmembers. The first, with her face painted in a jagged, toothy smile and dark eyes, gave Adeljtsä a look of disdain. 

"Yeah, I know where she is. Any reason why you wanna know?" Smiley looked to her friend, an almost identical twin, and they both snickered as if something funny had been said.

The second pirate had her facepaint done so it looked as though she had long stitches over her eyes. "I thought she was with Dualscar," she trilled, before dissolving into another bout of giggles. Stitches, who had to tilt her head up to look at Adeljtsä in the eye, focused on the collar, her haughty smile unchanging but her eyes became a bit softer. "I saw her go that way." She tilted her head to the right, "The rain's picking up a bit, though, so be careful." 

"Thank you." Adeljtsä smiled at the pirates, who both returned it, with Stitches halfheartedly adding on "pet". Adeljtsä left the girls and continued her search. Stitches was right, the rain had gotten harder. It only made the cold air worse. Around her, vendors who didn't have awnings were packing up, many of the citizens were making their way towards shelter. Adeljtsä came across a pirate carrying stacks of signs, with a noose or three hanging off her belt, "Are you Loophole? The-- the captain asked me to-- oh!" Adeljtsä yelped at thunder boomed overhead. The pirate jerked her arm away and started a beeline for a covered spot. 

"Wait, but, the signs!" She looked around wildly, but the number of people on the boardwalk was rapidly declining. White hot lightning split the clouds, and Adeljtsä started running. She found an alley, a gap between two tall buildings, one of which had a stout awning that provided a shelter as she pressed herself against the wall. The awning blocked the rain from her; the cold continued to bite into her skin, and her back ached from reopened wounds. She slid to the ground, trembling, holding her knees to her chest.

"What are you doing here?" Adeljtsä tilted her head up. She could barely make out the captain's broad shape. He looked a little smaller than usual, but Adeljtsä blamed it on the rain hampering her vision. She reached out, and the captain picked her up, pulling her into his arms. "Alright, I got you. Now, let's get you somewhere safer than this." 

# ~*~

Adeljtsä woke up, though she never recalled having fallen asleep. She was in a bed, not one that she recognized. She definitely didn't recognize the room she was in. She sat up and looked around. The room was very homey, and rather... still. It didn't rock with the waves like she remembered the captain's quarters doing. Adeljtsä rolled out of bed with a little less grace than she remembered having and went to the window, luckily only a foot or so away. She looked outside and saw grass. Even further than that, a good few hundred feet away and at the bottom of a sloping hill, the Sea Goat bobbed at the docks. 

" _Mi corazon_ , she's awake!" A voice from the doorway cause Adeljtsä to turn around. A man stood in the open door, holding a candle. He was looking behind her down the hallway, and only turned away once shallow footsteps could be heard from the upper level. He moved towards Adeljtsä. "You're looking better already, _mija_. A good night's sleep really did you well."

Adeljtsä asked, "How long was I asleep?"

"A day and a half. It's nighttime right now. Nearly midnight. You don't sleep much, usually, do you? Look like you caught up a little." The man replied, walking to the dresser that sat on the opposite wall from her bed and set the tray on it. Above the dresser, a lance hung on the wall. "Before I forget, I should introduce myself. My name is Socorro Nitram, and-- oh!" He darted quickly back to the door, where a woman wearing a pale blue nightgown had just recently entered, groggily rubbing her eyes, "This is _el amor de mi vida_ , my lovely wife--"

"My name is Minau." The woman interjected. She smiled at Socorro and placed a hand lightly on his shoulder before looking back at Adeljtsä. "Forgive me if I'm being blunt, darling. It's awfully late. Socorro here has stayed up later than he usually does to make sure you were okay. You were asleep when he brought you home, and neither of us were very sure you were going to wake back up anytime soon. I made you a little meal anyways, just in case. I even kept the spiders away from it."

"Spiders?" Adeljtsä blanched.

" _Si, mija_ , spiders!" Socorro put an arm around his wife's shoulders, " _Mi tesoro_ here is their marquise. She talks to them." 

He winked, and Minau smiled and shook her head, "Close. I know how to do little things to control them. Like, with fire, or certain foods to attract to repel them, make them bite someone. I consider them to be my friends. They won't hurt you."

She moved the candle off of the tray and carried the plate of food to Adeljtsä. "Thank you both," the girl said, "I promise, I'll be out of your hair as soon as morning comes."

"Oh, no no no!" For a moment, it looked like Socorro was about to have a heart attack. "In your condition? Of course not! _Mija_ , are you even aware of how injured you are? You've got several broken bones, an awful fever, and-- goodness, if you could see your back... Minau thought you might had been attacked by some animal." He looked to his wife, who nodded solemnly in agreement. "We insist you stay a few days." She said, "At least, until your fever breaks."

Adeljtsä hesitated. The captain would be looking for her. The captain was probably _already_ looking for her. But then again, the couple was right. She was hurt, and she knew just how badly. "Okay," she agreed, "As long as you'd like me to, I'll stay." 

Minau kissed her on the forehead, "Wonderful, darling. Oh, perhaps now that we've both woken up a bit, I can get to brushing out your hair. No," she stopped Adeljtsä from talking, "No need to explain why it's so messy. Sit down on the chair and eat. I'll put your hair in a nice, neat braid for you."

There was a knock from upstairs. The three of them exchanged glances before Socorro slipped out of the room to answer it. His footsteps gradually became quieter as they ascended up the stairs. "It's so nice living in a house built on a hill like this one." Minau began. She took a brush from the dresser and shook it. Multiple spiders fell out and scurried away. "The hill is so steep, both floors are on ground level. There's only one door, though, so it's easy to find which one is the main level."

After a moment, Socorro returned, padding down the stairs much softer, much slower than he had gone up them. Minau looked up from brushing Adeljtsä's hair as he entered in through the doorway. "It was the beadle," he stated quietly, unrolling a piece of paper that had been tied and held shut with a rather formal-looking ribbon and seal, "They're looking for someone."

"Who are they looking for?" Adeljtsä asked. She already knew the answer. Behind her, Minau's grip on the brush tightened.

"I believe it's you, _mija_." He turned the paper to her. On it was the same symbol branded on her shoulder, on her collar. "...you're really a slave?"

"I'm a servant," Adeljtsä corrected, but was drowned out by Minau's voice.

"You've seen the state she's in, darling, of course she is. See, she's even got a brand. Probably one of Makara's."

Adeljtsä blinked, "How did--"

"Her brother is on that ship." Socorro answered.

"He's my half-brother, and I haven't seen him in years." Minau huffed, tearing the brush though Adeljtsä's hair. She hardly winced. "Socorro, darling, can you take her dishes back to the kitchen and clean them?"

Adeljtsä and Socorro both took a moment to react; apparently Minau was the only one who noticed that Adeljtsä had finished with her food. "Of course, _mi reina_."

Socorro exited with the tray, leaving the two girls in silence. "So," Adeljtsä squeaked, "Spiders, huh?"

"Yes, spiders." Minau nodded, "They're very interesting. All of them are different. If I adjust them to one another, they'll stop attacking different species, and actually work together."

Minau continued her soliloquy, even by the time Adeljtsä had stopped paying attention. The lance kept catching her attention. It had a thin layer of spiderwebs around it, as well as a badge hanging above it. Socorro's initials were carved into the badge. It looked official, like something a constable might've worn.

By the time Socorro had returned, Minau had finished brushing, as well as the lecture. Adeljtsä had, eventually, paid attention again and listened to the rest of it to the end. 

"How much were they offering for her return?" Minau asked her husband. He hesitated, then stumbled over his words, "Uh, _dos mil trece_."

"Oh, is that pesos or silver pieces?"

"Silvers, _cariña_."

Minau's hairbrush clattered to the floor. Adeljtsä held her breath, not wanting to turn around. "Socorro. Do you know how much that is?"

"I'm very aware of how much it is, _mi tesoro,_ but what are you saying?" 

"Socorro, we could pay off all our debts with that--"

"No."

"Socorro!"

" _Not_ in front of Adeljtsä!" Socorro hissed. "We can dicuss this later. Much later." The two stared each other down. Adeljtsä shifted uncomfortably. 

"I think it's time for us to go to bed." Minau announced. She tightened the ribbon on Adeljtsä's braid to ensure it wouldn't come loose during the night. "You should get some sleep too, dear. While you can."

She left the room, and was soon followed by Socorro, who took the candle with him. He turned to face her just before he shut the door, "Goodnight, _mija_. I promise, we're not getting rid of you."

Adeljtsä found her bed easily in the dim moonlight and laid down, pulling the covers up to her chin. Above her, a family of spiders were spinning an assortment of various webs. It almost looked like a city. She closed her eyes, thinking back on Minau's words. 

The way Minau talked about her spiders was the same way she talked to Socorro. The admiration, the fondness and respect in her words, it was gone when she said Adeljtsä's name. 

The longer she thought, the surer she was about the couple's decision. Despite Socorro's words, something told her she wasn't going to be staying for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I kinda dislike how different Minau is from Mindfang, but considering the incredibly different circumstances (a housewife vs a pirate) its kind of appropriate.
> 
> It should be noted Minau and Socorro are speaking Sabir, not Spanish. Just assume everyone is speaking Sabir if their dialogue is being translated to English.
> 
> Also, if you want to know about the amount of Adeljtsä's reward, 2013 pesos is worth about 120$ US dollars, but 2013 silver pieces is worth about 200,000$ US dollars. During the 15th century, Spain was kind of in the process of switching from silver pieces to pesos due to economy reasons, which is why Minau asked which it was.


	8. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dang, can you believe there's only a quarter of this story left? Big shoutout to everyone who's been supporting this, either from the beginning or if this is your first time having to wait on the next chapter from me. It really does mean a lot. 
> 
> Be sure to comment and tell me what your favorite part was! I love hearing feedback from everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness gracious, I am SO sorry this took so long!! Writer's block just hit me like a bus. Anyways, here's Chapter 8 for you guys!! Enjoy!

"Your hair gets tangled awful quick, doesn't it?" Socorro combed through the back of Adeljtsä's hair. "Have you ever thought about cutting it?" He asked.

Adeljtsä shook her head, "No. I was never allowed to by either of my mothers. My birth mother told me short hair was a sign of impurity for girls, so I listened to her and never asked to get it cut. When I ran away with Eraltan, his mother took me in. She told me long hair suited me, and I just kept it how it was. She liked styling it." 

"Well, _mija_ , what about now? You're away from them both. Nebet, is that what you said her name was? It doesn't sound like she ever outright forbade you from cutting your hair. What's stopped you?" 

"Nebt-Het is her name. And I'm not sure," Adeljtsä shrugged, "I've never thought about it. It's not a problem until it gets messy like this." She ran her fingers through the two parts of her hair that had been drawn over her shoulders. She could never reach the back of her hair on her own. "I think I like it long."

"However you keep it, I think it looks very nice on you." Socorro set the brush down. "Do you want me to braid it?"

Adeljtsä shook her head, "No, thank you. I've got it."

A knock on the door called their attention over. Minau stood in the open doorway, holding a small bottle in one hand and a roll of bandages in the other. "Has she taken her medicine yet?" She asked her husband, intentionally not addressing Adeljtsä.

"I haven't." Adeljtsä piped up. Minau shot her a look. "I know. Two capfuls. Thank you." She took the bottle from her with a little smile that didn't get returned.

"Can we talk, Socorro?" Minau looked back up at him, then tilted her head towards the open door.

"Of course, _mi vida_ , right after you do her bandages." Socorro mimicked her, tilting his head towards Adeljtsä. Minau tensed up visibly. "You know I can't do it. I'll be upstairs. You can talk to me when you're done." He left, pausing to kiss her on the cheek.

A heavy silence followed. Finally, Minau crossed the room to stand near Adeljtsä. "Dress." She ordered, and Adeljtsä instinctively stood up and pulled her dress up over her head. Minau had redone her bandaged four times now, yet still acted like she could convince Socorro to do it instead. Adeljtsä knew why. Minau wanted to distance herself. She was still hoping that Socorro would agree with her and claim the reward, so she wanted to make sure she didn't get too close to Adeljtsä in the time being. The guilt would have destroyed her otherwise.

Even the spiders had begun to ignore and avoid Adeljtsä. It made them much easier to be comfortable around. There were so many more of them than she ever thought should be in one place. Some of the spiders didn't look normal, like they had been taken from other, more exotic locations.

"There." The bandages had been completely redone, winding from just below Adeljtsä's hips to up and over her shoulder. She put her dress back on as Minau stepped away. "It's crooked," the woman told her, then stepped closer again to fix the collar of Adeljtsä's dress, "Here, let me... Wait..."

Adeljtsä looked at her, "What's wrong?"

"It's your skin," Minau said, placing her entire palm on Adeljtsä's collarbone. "It's... your fever is breaking." 

"Oh." It had only taken about a week and a half. Adeljtsä was so accustomed to just working through it, she had forgotten what it felt like to not have a headache. "Does... that mean I can leave?"

Minau looked nervous. "N-not yet. Stay a little longer just to make sure it doesn't come back. I'll go tell Socorro that you're feeling better." She left before Adeljtsä could protest. Neither of the girls felt very positive. Adeljtsä sighed and turned to the window. Having been relaxed for such a long time, she could feel every wound and overworked muscle screaming in pain as she moved.

Adeljtsä looked over at the hills. Down at the docks, the Sea Goat was still floating in the darkened harbor. Her stomach twisted into a knot, and she stepped away. Why couldn't the Captain just leave her alone? _No_ , she thought, _No, I don't want to be alone._ After leaving Minau and Socorro, she'd have nowhere to go. She needed the Captain. "I'm sorry." Adeljtsä put her head in her hands, apologizing to no one in particular. She was shaking again, trembling, but she didn't have anything to be afraid of this time. A freezing numbness began creeping up her arms and legs. The rest of her heated up so much she thought her fever might've been making a comeback. 

"I'm sorry." 

She paced about the room, clawing her arms. They were numb to her nails sinking into them. She felt-- what did she feel? She felt more than anger. She felt affronted, enraged, _seething_ , she wanted to break something. Her hands gripped the back of a chair, but she couldn't bring herself to throw it. Something inside her was empty. She tried to remember. There was someone, many someones, that loved her. They were looking for her, worried about her. One of them was dead. She heard a woman's voice calling her name. Which name? It seemed like she had collected so many. 

One of them was dead. Adeljtsä tore her hands through her hair, ruining the braid. Her heartbeat was in her ears. _Why_ did he die? "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

" _Mija?_ " Adeljtsä froze. Her blurred vision snapped back in to focus, her heart quieted. She let go of the chair.

"Socorro?" Adeljtsä turned to the door, but found it was still closed. Socorro's voice was fainter than she remembered.

" _Mija_ , could you come upstairs, please?"

Her hand fell on the doorknob before she could register the overwhelming need to get out of the room. A change of scenery would be nice. She was so tired of staring at wooden walls.

Socorro was in the kitchen when Adeljtsä found her way upstairs. "I heard you were feeling better." he said, chopping up an onion, "I wanted to make sure for myself, but I got held up preparing dinner. Plus, I thought it'd be nice for you to get out of that room for once."

Adeljtsä nodded, "Yes, Minau said my fever had broken. I feel much more rested as well. Thank you again for taking care of me." Socorro looked up briefly to smile at her.

"Don't worry about it, _mija_. I would have never forgiven myself if I'd just left you in that alley."

Adeljtsä didn't say anything after that. Socorro returned to cutting the onions, and she watched him, wringing her hands restlessly behind her back. "Do you need any help?" She asked at last.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Help." Adeljtsä gestured at the food, "I can help you make dinner, if you'd like."

Socorro beamed, looking for a moment like a physical embodiment of the sun. "If you really want to, _mija_." He said, "That would be very kind of you."

"Actually, darling." Minau came through the open archway connecting the kitchen to the den. She carried a platter of raw fish, each flayed and headless. "Could you run downstairs first and grab me an extra apron?"

Socorro put down his knife and moved towards the stairs, but Minau put a hand on his chest to stop him, "No, sorry, I meant her." He stared at her a moment before stepping back and scraping a mound of potato peels and bits of onion into a wicker basket. "Adeljtsä, _darling_ ," Minau looked pointedly at her, "There should be two in a storage closet near your room." 

"Yes, of course. Not a problem." Adeljtsä turned and trodded downstairs, Minau's "thank you!" following after her. She missed the knock on the front door, as well as the looks Minau and Socorro exchanged.

She did, however, hear Socorro's cry of anger, shouting his wife's name. It was the first time Adeljtsä had ever heard him refer to Minau as anything other than a term of endearment. She ran to the bottom of the staircase, only to get knocked over by Socorro thundering down the stairs. He grabbed her, catching her quickly and keeping her on her feet.

"Socorro?" Adeljtsä held fast to his arm as he led her back to her room. From upstairs, there was a crash, followed by Minau screaming. It reminded Adeljtsä far too much of a raid. "Minau called the Beadle. He brought the Constables, and now we're both in trouble. I'm getting you out of here."

"Wait, why are _you_ in trouble?" Adeljtsä would have stopped if she weren't being pulling along. Socorro dragged them both into her room and shut the door.

"I'm, uh, a bit of a rebel, _mija_." He locked the door, then pointed at the lance that hung on the wall. "I quit, and around here, Constables don't just quit... They will follow me if I leave here, but if I stay," He paused. They could both hear footsteps coming down the stairs. "If I stay, I can distract them. You're going to have to run, _mija_. I don't want them to bring you back to Makara's ship. He's a sadist, I swear, he'll kill you."

The doorknob rattled violently. "Go! Out the window!" Socorro pushed her, but Adeljtsä only stared, unable to comprehend how everything had gone so downhill so quickly. It hadn't even been a full month. She was still just a moment too long, and Adeljtsä found herself collected up in Socorro's arms like a child.

"Forgive me for this, _mija_." He said under his breath. He cleared the room in seconds, and then she was falling. Adeljtsä hit the grass outside before she could get a sound out. There was an open window only a foot or so above her, which provided plenty of coverage from anyone in the room looking out.

She was about to get up to run, as Socorro had instructed her to, but the sound of the door opening stopped her. She dropped back to the ground to avoid being seen.

"Socorro!" It was only Minau.

"Minau, why did you do this?"

"Where did she go, Socorro?"

"She's gone! She's safe!"

Minau shrieked in anger. There was a clatter, stumbling footsteps, and another scream, this one breaking and ending in a whimper. A horrifying silence followed. Despite all her instincts telling her not to, Adeljtsä pulled herself up on her knees and looked into the house.

Socorro leaned awkwardly against the dresser, one arm bracing himself up. In front of him, Minau stood, her pale blue dress darkening rapidly with blood. Socorro pulled his hand back, removing the lance from her midsection and dropping it in horror.

He wrapped his arms around his wife before she could begin to go limp, and he lowered her carefully to the ground. Spiders swarmed, leaving a gap of space around the two. He was talking to her, whispering something, but it was drowned out by the door being removed from its hinges.

A small group of men entered, each wearing the same badge that hung on the wall. Adeljtsä ducked and held her breath. She could hear Socorro, screaming, knocking things over, men yelling. Glass shattered, and the wall behind her suddenly grew very warm.

Heat rushed over Adeljtsä's head, singeing the top of her hair. She gasped in a lungful of smoke and finally took to her feet and ran. She thought she could hear Socorro throwing obscenities behind her at the Constables. Fire crackled in her ears, even as she drew further away from the house.

She didn't want to look back. She did anyways, stopping on her heel and turning to face the house. It looked just like she expected it to. Flames had already charred the outside walls, and all the glass-paned windows were blown out. Adeljtsä felt her head grow fuzzy. They were dead. _Why did they have to be dead?_.

"Distracted by the view?" A familiar voice asked. Adeljtsä flinched away from it. The blunt end of a sword pressed into her throat, right under her collar. "You're not going anywhere. Do you know how worried I was?" She tilted her head back to look up at the Captain as he lectured her.

"You look... healthier." He narrowed his eyes. "Were you taken care of?"

Adeljtsä nodded shakily. "Yes. There was a couple who lived in that house. They found me when I was lost in the rainstorm and took me in." Makara's eyes flicked up to look at the house. She could see the fire reflected in his eyes. It looked the same there as it did against the night sky.

"Good." He said at last. "If they hurt you, I would've had to kill them myself. It appears someone beat me to it, anyways." He looked back at her, then lowered the sword and pulled her into a hug. "I will not lose you again. Redglare explained to me where she had sent you before you ran off. Trust me, sufficient punishments were made." He threaded his fingers through her hair, which was much easier now that it was clean.

While the action usually calmed her, Adeljtsä couldn't help but let tears well up in her eyes. Socorro's sacrifice had been for nothing, and his wife's blood was on his hands. Redglare and Loophole were probably dead now, too. The Captain pet her head as she cried. She felt metal against the back of her neck, and the sudden weight of her hair disappearing as it was sliced off.

Adeljtsä shrieked a gasp and pulled back, feeling her hair. It was gone, everything just below her ears was gone. The front locks only slightly brushed against her shoulders. "What did you do?" she breathed.

"You had to be punished," he stated, "for running away. Let's go, Dorlapsi. We're leaving."

# ~*~

The walk back to the ship was tedious. The crew had been waiting for them, lined around the ship to watch. Adeljtsä did a double-take when she saw Redglare, alive. The first mate was blindfolded and tied to the center mast, but she was alive. There was no sign of the woman Adeljtsä recognized as Loophole.

The captain kept a hand firmly around the nape of her neck as he lead her back to his Quarters. He let her go once the door was closed, crossing over to his desk. "Redglare would like to thank you, by the way, Dorlapsi."

Adeljtsä looked at him and blinked. He continued, "I'd have killed her likely if you'd wound up dead. Loophole, too, maybe."

"Why?" She blurted, "It wasn't their fault!"

"Shh, don't raise your voice at me." Adeljtsä's throat dried up. She opened her mouth, but only a few squeaks came out. The captain took Adeljtsä's hand and pulled her into his lap.

"They're the only motherfuckers I need to blame," he said as he rolled the hem of her dress between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand rummaged through his desk drawers, out of her sight. Adeljtsä felt herself slowly grow numb and sleepy. She leaned against the captain's chest, letting her eyes droop shut.

His sudden grip on her arm woke her up slightly. His nails dug into her skin, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of the knife being dragged down her back.

"Second offense." The captain stated. He held her in place as she shook, hardly reacting to pain anymore. "You're on thin ice, Dorlapsi." 

"If I get three... What happens then? Will you sell me?" She spoke through gritted teeth, balling her dress in her fists. 

He gave a wretched grin that she couldn't see, booming with laughter. "Sell you? Motherfuckin' _funny_ today, huh? You know you're far to valuable to be sold. I couldn't stand anyone else to have you."

He set the knife down and checked his handiwork. Two horizontal lines right beneath her shoulder blades, going over her spine. He was still chuckling to himself, truly amused at her joke.

"A third offense? Dorlapsi, please... I'd _kill_ you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also!! If any of you are into the LetsPlay scene on YouTube, specifically Jacksepticeye and Markiplier, keep an eye out for Heroes of the Tube! It's sort of a Choose Your Own Adventure style fic I'm going to be starting soon in order for me to lay down some dialogue for the Heroes of the Tube game I'll be creating!
> 
> Once again, thanks for reading, and be sure to leave a comment!


	9. (Sunrise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh geeze I'm so sorry this took so long. Here's some more Eraltan and Taoma!! Thank you all for sticking with me through this, and thank ThePirateKing.com for helping me get all my info for making this fic as accurate as I could!

It was raining. Chances of a flood, people were saying. Eraltan didn't care. He would teach himself to swim if he had to. Next to him, Taoma didn't say anything. They both shook in the cold, soaked to the bone. A inn's warm light gleamed up ahead. A curtain hung across the open entrance, and the men never found themselves more thankful to be saved of the few seconds it took to open a door.

"I'm looking for The Sea Goat." Eraltan put his hands firmly on the bartop, leaning his body weight on them so his legs wouldn't give out. "Has it come by recently?"

The innkeeper raised a thin eyebrow at him. She stole a glance at Taoma, who nodded in affirmation, a grim look on his face. "Sea Goat was here bit less than a week ago. Traded, as usual, but stayed in port for ages longer than usual. We thought we'd have to prepare for an attack, but nothin' happened." She stated, avoiding eye contact as she spoke by pouring a row of drinks. "You don't have any business with them, do you?"

"I do." Eraltan insisted, "Where are they headed next? Do you know? They... The captain took my wife. I need to get her back."

She peered up at him over her spectacles, going quiet for a moment so she could process what to say next. "I'm afraid I don't know their route, I'm sorry. But, hey," she continued before Eraltan had the chance to leave, "I know a woman who does. The governor's widow. Be careful with her, though. Word is she killed all her husbands, and even some others. She wants to rule the town alone, but the people don't want a woman in charge. She keeps remarrying so she remains the governor's wife, letting her Beadle carry out all her work. Lots of people think she's in cahoots with Makara."

Eraltan took her hand and clasped it in both of his. "Thank you, thank you so much." He turned to Taoma and started to walk off, but the innkeeper suddenly gripped his hands tightly and pulled him back to face her.

"Kill him." She said in a hushed voice, tilting her head down, eyes looking up at him. The torchlight reflecting off her glasses made the lenses burn bloody red. Her nails dug into him, hands shaking. "He took my sister. I want him to pay. When you find him, _kill him_." 

# ~*~

The governer's palace was much more foreboding than it should have been. It was immaculate, too perfect and clean compared to the rest of the town. Eraltan picked up the door knocker and let it slam three times. The door was quickly answered, by a young girl in an expensive-looking dress. Eraltan blinked at her in surprise. She couldn't have been older than fifteen.

"Oh, a traveller!" The girl said with a wide smile. "Do you need lodging? There's a cute little inn just half a mile down--"

"We just came from there, actually." Eraltan interrupted. "We're looking for the governor's, uh... wife."

"Do you have an appointment?" She asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Uh... N-no..?"

"That's fine!" The girl opened the door wider to allow them in, "She's not busy anyways. Come on in!" She stepped back as they entered slowly, cautiously, then turned and shouted up the large staircase. "Mother! Some nice men would like to talk to you!"

She turned back to the men in question, "She'll be with you in a second, you can follow me this way--"

"Ah! Wait a minute, Fef." Eraltan and Taoma spun to face a much taller girl staring them down with her arms crossed. She was dressed much differently than the first girl, wearing a corset with a pair of breeches tucked into tall socks and men's shoes. A shimmering trident was draped over her shoulders. "Weapons check. Arms out!"

The two men complied quickly. Despite looking just a few years older than 'Fef', she had an overpowering air of intimidation, and the double-ended trident didn't help, even when she propped it against the wall to pat them down. Eraltan hoped the governess would be different.

The older girl confiscated the only weapons on them; a pair of hooked knives from Taoma. "You'll get these back when you leave. Safety precautions." She left with the weapons in her back pocket and her trident on her shoulder. Taoma huffed, but stayed silent.

"Sorry about Meenah." Fef tilted her head towards a pair of double doors. "She can be a little abrasive. This way, please. You can wait in here."

# ~*~

The girl's name was actually Feferi, Eraltan learned as he set foot in the governess's office.

"Thank you, Feferi. You can go now, sweetie." The governor's widow stood, waving her daughter away. Feferi scampered out the door and shut it behind her. It slammed with a resounding _thud_.

If Eraltan thought Meenah was intimidating before, she now seemed like a peach compared to the woman in front of him. He could almost envision the eggshells he'd have to walk on.

"To whom can I thank for this fine meeting?" She purred sweetly, making Eraltan's blood turn to ice.

"Uh, me, ma'am." He spoke up, suddenly wishing that Taoma was the one in charge of this expedition. "I'd like to have the schedule of The Sea Goat. Do you know it?"

Her eyes flashed, but her smile remained plastered on. "I do, dearie. Can I ask why you need to know it?"

"Well..." Eraltan reflected on what the innkeeper told him, and decided it wasn't the best idea to tell the whole truth in this situation. "I've been trying to talk to the captain for a long time now, but I keep losing him. Too slow to the ports, you see, since me and my friend here are traveling mostly on foot."

She seemed to just then notice Taoma there. She looked him over just a few moments longer than he would've liked her to, then turned to the identically-dressed children in the two back corners of the room. "Jane, John, be a pair of doves and go get these nice gentlemen here some of those pastries you made." They nodded once and swept out of the room unison. "Oh, and tea!" The governess called after them. 

She giggled softly, sitting on her desk and crossing one leg over the other. "Aren't they precious? My pride and joy, my kids are... You've already met Feferi, what about Meenah and Jade and Jake?"

"Meenah, yes. We met her downstairs." Eraltan confirmed. He knew what she was doing. She was stalling them.

"Meenah and Feffie baby are my blood daughters. The other four are from some of my past marriages, but I love all of them just the same."

"Have you been married a lot?" Taoma asked, speaking for the first time in a while. He seemed indifferent to how rude his question might be. 

The governor's widow took it in stride, though. "Six times, yes. It's awfully hard getting divorced so often. My most recent husband left me not too long ago..." She sighed, attempting to evoke pity from them. Eraltan had the feeling she knew it wasn't working.

Jane and John came back in at that moment, each carrying a separate tray. Jane's platter had an array of sugar-coated sweetmeats; John held three cups of tea on his.

"So, the schedule?" Eraltan asked, holding a pastry loosely. He'd yet to bite into it. He wanted to get back to the topic at hand.

"Right, right, I do apologize!" The governess waved the air around her head, laughing a bit as she went to a cabinet. "I can be so forgetful sometimes. I have a copy written in here somewhere, actually. I wouldn't mind you keeping it."

Eraltan rocked anxiously on his heels. He wanted to get out of there as quick as possible. "That's very nice of you."

"Eraltan." A voice whispered next to him. He glanced over to see Taoma, paler than he ever should have been. His pastry, half-eaten, fell from his hand, strawberry filling splattering awfully on the pristine white tiles.

Eraltan's eyes went wide as Taoma began to sway. He noticed the governor's widow signal to one of the children, and they both moved closed to the blond. "Don't touch him." Eraltan growled, moving closer to his friend protectively.

Both children procured sharp cooking knives from their jacket pockets. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't struggle." The governess said offhandedly, shutting the drawer and taking a golden, jewel-embedded trident from beside the cabinet, "Blood is too hard to get out of tile." 

For a moment, Eraltan paused, looking between the woman and the two kids slowly advancing on him. He grabbed Taoma by the wrist and threw his teacup as hard as he could muster. It shattered against the governess's face, and she shrieked bloody murder.

When the children turned to their mother in shock and concern, Eraltan made a run for it. He opened the heavy doors, barely outrunning the swipe of a knife against his back, and nearly tripped down all three flights of stairs with Taoma in tow. The front door was in his sights. They could make it.

Something heavy and blunt collided with the side of his head, and Eraltan went tumbling to the floor. His nails dragged across the carpet as he tried to scramble to his feet. "Where do you think you're goin', boy?" Eraltan looked up, squinting against the harsh light. Meenah stood above him, holding up her trident with both hands. "You're done for." 

She brought the trident down towards his head. He turned away, rolling, hoping he could get out of range. From the other side of him, there was a flurry of footsteps coming down the stairs, and then the sound of Meenah yelling. The metallic, audible sharpness of two weapons colliding filled the room.

He looked, and saw Feferi standing guard over Taoma. She held her mother's trident, which dwarfed her, the prongs locking with Meenah's own and preventing her from striking Eraltan. "Go!" Feferi yelled over her shoulder. She gave a heavy push, making Meenah stumble back a few feet, then ran forward to block her a second time.

He didn't need a second warning. Eraltan hauled Taoma to his feet and ran for the door. The wall in front of him was suddenly littered with bullet holes. He tried to not think about the the two sets of footsteps coming behind them, or the gunshots in his ears. He shoved the door open and ran into freedom, then kept running, and running, and running.

# ~*~

Taoma was retching himself inside-out by the time they had slowed down, on his hands and knees in the grass while his body expelled all the poison in his stomach. He coughed violently a few times before sitting back on his knees and meeting Eraltan's eyes. His eyes were red and bleary, and he looked just about as miserable as a person could get, but the color was returning to his cheeks. Eraltan sighed in relief and crouched down to his level, "How do you feel?"

"Fuck," Taoma sputtered, "Those were some good pastries, too. Thank fucking god I ate mine slowly." It took Eraltan a moment to realize he was joking. When he did, he forced a smile a bit bigger than what he actually felt, but within seconds he was sitting back and laughing loudly, genuinely.

He wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "You can never keep a moment serious, can you, Tao?" 

"I nearly died. I'd say I'm being _gravely_ serious right now." Taoma shot him a lopsided grin.

" _Dead_ serious?" Eraltan returned. The two broke into a fit of laughter, laying back in the grass, the most amount of joy they had felt in a long time.

"Ah, you're too good to me, brother." Eraltan sighed and placed his hand on Taoma's shoulder.

"You give me too much credit." Taoma shook his head as he sat up, "We both needed to lighten up." He glanced at his hands, and his grin slowly melted away into a concerned frown. "What..?"

Eraltan sat up, eyebrows knitted together in worry. Taoma turned the palms of his hands to the preacher. They were partially stained black at the heel of his hand and his fingertips. "Is that... soot?"

The entire field of grass behind them was sprinkled in the dark ash, getting denser and denser in the direction of a pile of burnt shambles. They must have missed it in all the excitement about Taoma being poisoned. Eraltan stood up and took a few steps toward the rubble before looking back at Taoma, who was also standing.

They walked together towards the burnt remains of the building, looking it over. It still smelled faintly of smoke. Eraltan could see what vaguely reminded him of a body, but he grimaced and avoiding looking in that direction for very long. Ceramic dishes were charred and shattered, littering the ground alongside broken wooden furniture and scraps of clothing. "This was someone's house." Eraltan stated softly.

Taoma swearing jerked his attention over to see his friend hopping away from a broken windowframe. He wandered over, and found a single trail of muddy imprints leading away from the debris, barely visible. "Thank god, it looks like at least one person was able make it away from the fire." Eraltan said with a little smile.

He followed the prints for a good few yards, stopping when he saw a gathering of birds all pecking around at the ground. Some flew away occasionally, carrying long bundles of string in their mouths. "Nest-building, huh?" He laughed and walked closer. More birds flew away from him, allowing him to see a dark piece of cord half-embedded in the ground. "What's this?" He wondered aloud, reaching down to grab it.

"Find something?" Taoma asked as he picked it up.

"Yeah, a necklace, I think? That's what it looks like." Eraltan held the necklace up to eye level after wiping off the mud. The pendant that hung on it was wooden, shaped like the heads of three cats, hardly bigger than a river stone. "It's pretty." He told Taoma.

"Eraltan," Taoma said, his voice quiet, "Look at the back."

Eraltan frowned slightly in concern and turned the pendant around. Engraved on the back in nice letters, was _Adeleetsa_.

"That's her." He breathed. "She's still alive, Taoma, she's still okay! We can't be too far from The Sea Goat. Maybe-- what if she's not on it? What if she escaped, Taoma? Look how far we are from port!" Eraltan clutched the pendant, holding it to his heart. Taoma looked somewhat doubtful, but he still managed a slight smile. 

"I'm sorry, pardon me, did I hear you mention The Sea Goat?" Eraltan turned his head towards the sound of the voice. A man was coming from the direction of the burnt house. He had a slight limp and a black eye, but that didn't stop him from looking as chipper as ever.

"I did. Can I help you?"

"Ah, that depends, _mi amigo_ , are you with them or against them?" The man grinned.

"Against." Eraltan straightened up with a frown. "I despise them. My wife is being held captive on that ship. My friend and I here are going to rescue her."

The man moved closer, looking from the necklace in Eraltan's hand to the ground. Most of the birds had cleared, revealing what looked like a mess of darkened hair in the mud. "You're very brave, sir. I'd like to accompany you." He said, "I have little left for me in this town." The man glanced back at the remains of the house. "No man should ever be separated from his wife. If you'll let me, it'd be an honor to help you."

Eraltan smiled and walked towards him, "That's very kind of you, sir. I'd be glad to let you accompany us."

"Don't expect us to trust you immediately." Taoma added, "We just recently had an unfortunate encounter with someone who was also supposed to be helpful. However, I don't believe you have the same history of murdering your spouses."

The man flinched, "I know the five constants the ship docks at each year. Where they go in between those is up to the captain. After Spain, they go to Tunis, then Egypt. Their fourth stop is more vague, it's a random port on the Adriatic Sea. Then Corsica, France."

Eraltan sighed, "We'd have to set for Egypt. There's no way we'd make it to Tunis in time."

"Well," the man started, "maybe not on foot. But I have a ship. It's no _Nao_ as Makara has, but it's a family fishing ship I used to travel on with my brother and his son before they gave it to me as a wedding gift."

"Anything larger than a dingy would be fantastic." Eraltan returned.

"It's got a single mast, so it at least has some windpower behind it, and a second deck. We even rigged up a dinghy to the side of it. The guy my brother bought it from told him it was a codfishing vessel--"

"A dogger!" Eraltan exclaimed, "I used to operate one of these in my days as a fisherman! They're incredibly popular in the North Sea."

"Perfect! You can captain it."

"But, sir, it's your ship."

"Ah, but it's your expedition. You should have full control of it." said the man.

Eraltan held his hand out, and the man beamed as he clasped his wrist and shook it. "Thank you for your kindness, brother. I'm Eraltan Vantas, by the way. This here is my friend, Taoma Captor. What is your name?"

The man tipped his head in greeting, "Socorro Nitram. A pleasure to meet you both."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Socorro makes a comeback! I couldn't kill him off, I couldn't... Not after Avashe...
> 
> Hope you all are enjoying it so far!! Just a few chapters left. I'm planning to write some more AUs based off of other roleplays I've had, but feel free to give me suggestions or prompts!


	10. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me just take a moment to apologize for this chapter

Another dawn, another day of work. Adeljtsä rolled out of bed the moment the captain called her name to wake up. She went through the motions aimlessly, putting on a dress, tying the front locks of her hair back. She'd never admit it, but the short hair was immensely easier to take care of.

"Dorlapsi," the captain said again as he opened the door. "We're docking. No chores this morning." Adeljtsä nodded wordlessly and followed him out to the main deck. 

Sure enough, the Sea Goat was nearing a port. As they dropped anchor and she stepped onto the pier, Adeljtsä couldn't help but feel like she should have known the area.

The captain took two other servants with them, Dualscar and Redglare each holding a rope. Adeljtsä recognized the rest of the party; pirates who's names she never learned. As always, she stayed close to the Highblood at the front of the group. 

The marketplace, she recognized. She hadn't left the ship when they were here the previous year, so she'd almost forgotten what it looked like. Makara had left the two servants with an aging man in all green. Adeljtsä felt some kind of relief when they went away from him. The man kept looking at her expectantly, like he was waiting for her to do something. 

The marketplace was bustling. She lightly held the back of the captain's shirt, hoping she wouldn't get lost in the crowd. As he spoke with a merchant in Arabic, Adeljtsä took a moment to look around. Her eye caught a few shining pieces of jewelry and a bundle of fabric.

A cat rubbed against her leg, and she smiled down at it before two identical little boys with mops of blonde hair came running to grab it. One of them scooped up the cat with both arms while the other paused to look at her. He stared for a moment, then mumbled an apology and scattered off after his brother. 

Adeljtsä watched them go, wondering if their parents were close by. They weaved through the crowd to what looked like a much taller and lankier version of them. He listened to the boys talk and point back to Adeljtsä. The man looked up and met her eyes, before turning to someone she couldn't see and saying something.

"What are you looking at?" The Captin asked her. Adeljtsä hesitated. She wasn't entirely sure herself.

"Nothing. I thought I saw someone I recognized."

"Don't be ridiculous. None of the crew is in the marketplace but us."

"...Right. I forgot. My apologies."

# ~*~

Later that night, Adeljtsä sat curled up in a chair in the captain's quarters. She had a book in her lap, a small one that she felt was originally for children's education. She had read it hundreds of times over, almost memorized it, but for some reason she couldn't focus on it today. The captain was out about the main deck, making sure everyone was doing their jobs, and she had been given the freedom to do whatever she wanted until her curfew as long as she didn't interfere with anyone working. And as usual, no one was allowed to touch her.

Adeljtsä stood and placed the book back on the captain's shelf. She dragged her fingertips over the bindings and golden titles as she walked by on her way out the door.

It was dark outside, a little after sundown. To her left, she recognized Smiley, watching over a man scrubbing at the deck on all fours. Adeljtsä vaguely remembered having to do that herself before she became the captain's favorite. Captain's pet. She touched her collar and kept walking.

She decided to find Dualscar. He usually wasn't too busy. She made her way to the opposite side of the deck, noticing how pirates casually swerved to avoid her. None of the kitchen workers had seen him, and neither had most of the Skeleton Crew that was walking around. Finally, someone mentioned to her that he had gone below deck.

Adeljtsä found Redglare going down the stairs as well. "Good to see you, Dessie." The first mate greeted her, "How's your night going?"

"Good." Dessie grinned. "I'm on my way to bother Dualscar."

"Oh, yeah? Me too."

Redglare led the way, knowing exactly where to find Dualscar. He acknowledged the First Mate with a coy smile, but dropped it upon seeing Adeljtsä behind her. 

"The fuck is she doin' here, Red?" He whispered through gritted teeth, pulling Redglare closer so only she could hear. 

"Relax, Dualscar. You know we can trust her."

"No, _you think_ we can trust her. _You know_ what she is."

"Come on," Redglare looked back at Adeljtsä, who was rocking awkwardly on her heels while the pirates talked about her. "Just give her a chance."

Dualscar stared at the girl, his mouth set in a thin line. "I'm sorry," he sighed at last, "but no. Not tonight."

Redglare turned back to Adeljtsä and smiled apologetically. There was obviously no changing his mind, she understood. Adeljtsä nodded and turned to go back upstairs. 

"Leijon, wait." Dualscar stopped her. She paused to listen to him. "Don't... don't bring this up to Makara, will you?"

"I'll try." She returned, "But I'm not allowed to lie to him."

# ~*~

Adeljtsä had a hard time falling asleep that night. She had returned right back to the cabin and climbed into bed after her meeting with Dualscar. The captain came in maybe thirty minutes or four hours later, she wasn't sure, but he had fallen asleep wordlessly. 

She had an awful feeling in her gut. If she fell asleep now, she'd likely have a nightmare. But she wasn't allowed out of the captain's quarters, so there was nothing to do but lay there and wait until exhaustion took over. Adeljtsä huffed and turned on her side, facing the wall.

Her day dress was hung up on a hook there, along with a little belt she wore with it. The fabric was tattering at the hems and faded to a greyish color of what it once was. She couldn't remember what it once was. She hardly remembered where she got it from. Not the captain, she knew that much. Adeljtsä closed her eyes and tried to think of what she wore before she was given that dress. What she did before she found herself on the Sea Goat. All she got was a headache and blurry purple vision. 

"Relax," the captain murmured behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Just go to sleep."

He was right. Adeljtsä felt herself become heavy with exhaustion. She closed her eyes and rested back against the captain's chest. Sleep took over rapidly, and she accepted it.

# ~*~

_The ship was sinking. It was raining pure fire, every drop burning her skin. Adeljtsä took shelter in a flood that swallowed her up and tried to drown her. She let it pull her under. It was so much clearer underwater._

_She reached out toward a light below her. The water became thicker and darker, impossible to swim through. She broke surface for air and found herself bobbing in oil. The walls were smooth, curved glass, with an opening at the top far above her. She looked down at the light to find it angry red and rushing up at her. The oil ignited._

_She pushed at the darkness and met a wall. She pushed harder and opened a door, stumbled out into a pair of arms. They supported her as she went limp. She just wanted to sleep. This isn't real._

_The arms pushed her back into the closet, fighting against her protests to shut the door and seal her in. Adeljtsä hit the wall behind her hard, like she had been pushed to the floor. A door above her fell open and she crawled out of a wicker crate._

_She got to her feet shakily. The noises stopped, thank god. There was a door at the end of the room that she made her way towards. It was open slightly, the knob missing. She reached for the shattered hole where it should have been, then yanked her hand away as the knob came flying from behind her back. The door slammed shut as it fixed itself._

_Adeljtsä backed away until her legs hit the edge of a bed. She sat on it and watched the door open. A man she should have recognized entered and went towards her. Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes. He kissed her forehead tenderly, and she leaned towards him._

_"Don't worry yourself. I'll be back in a moment. I'll be back. I love you, Adeljtsä. My Dorlapsi."_

_She reached out when he left. He was too gentle to be real._

_This isn't real._

Her eyes opened. She was still sitting at the edge of the bed, but there was no door in front of her. Just a wall, with her day dress hanging on it. Adeljtsä sighed and brought her knees to her chest, burying her head in her arms. The ground suddenly pitched below her and shoved her off balance.

The ground rushed up to meet her, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She lay flat on her back, breathless, trying to figure out what had thrown her out of bed. She wasn't given much time to think it over; a scratching sound caught her attention and she tilted her head to see the bed dragging along the floor, coming towards her at alarming speeds. 

Adeljtsä shrieked in surprised and flattened herself out, which wasn't hard considering her current stature, and the bed collided with the wall right over her. She stared at the springboards inches away from her nose, until it started sliding again the opposite direction. As soon as she wasn't trapped anymore, Adeljtsä sprang to her feet and started towards the door.

The ship's violent rocking was more obvious now that she was upright. It pitched back and forth, almost like it was caught in--

"A storm." Adeljtsä blanched sheet-white. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. A thunderclap shook the walls of the room, making her bound forward and latch onto the doorknob. The door fell open with ease. The familiar sounds of a raid filled her ears, but the captain was nowhere in sight. He would usually have gotten her already and hidden her somewhere for safekeeping.

The furniture in the Quarters was as bad as it was in his cabin. Books had fallen to the ground, chairs were on their sides. The room was in complete disarray, and Adeljtsä sighed at the thought of her having to clean all of it up when this was over.

A particularly heavy throw made her stumble forward. She braced herself on the captain's desk and whimpered as her arms caught the glass of an inkwell. She pulled back and looked at them, shaking slightly.

There weren't any shards or cuts that she could see, but the ink was spattered over her forearms. She wiped at it, only for the ink to stain her palms as well. With a frustrated sigh, Adeljtsä stalked out the door, and was greeted by a chilling gust of wind and rain that made the ship hard to see.

It should have been a little past daybreak, but the clouds were thick overhead and blocked out all the light. She could hear gunshots and men screaming, yelling war cries, but there was no other boat in sight. What kind of raid was this?

A body landed at Adeljtsä's feet. It wore black and bloody pink paint on its face and torso, throat ripped open. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from being sick. Skeleton Crewmembers never died. Not on the ship, not during a raid. They were immortal as far as she knew. 

"Leijon!" Her eyes snapped to the sound of her name. Dualscar was by the ship's railing, barely visible in the rain. He had a sword pointed at her. "Get out of here!" He demanded, "Go back in there and hide!"

"Traitor!" Two pirates screamed as they ran at Dualscar. He turned and caught the neck of one with his sword. Her expression didn't even have time to change before he sliced her head head off in one fluid motion. The other stumbled upon seeing his partner get decapitated, and Dualscar took the opportunity to pitch him overboard. 

"Go, Leijon." He called, running over to her. He took her lightly by the arm. "It's not safe. Get below deck, hide in that crate. I'll come find you."

"What's going on?" Adeljtsä begged, "Where's the captain?"

Dualscar grinned lopsidedly, "I _am_ the captain."

Before he could say anything else, a lantern followed after the body from above her. It shattered, igniting the oily paint of the pirate at her feet. Adeljtsä screamed as the flames came up, fighting against the rain, and she only got louder when a pair of hands gripped her under the shoulders and lifted her up and away from Dualscar. 

When her feet touched down on the aftcastle, she immediately swung at the person holding her. She found her wrist caught, and another hand landed on her shoulder. "Hey, calm down! I'm trying to help you!" Adeljtsä paused and focused. The man reflected golden off the flames' light, like a physical embodiment of the sun.

"It's me, _mija._ " he said, smiling at her. She shrugged herself out of his grip and narrowed her eyes at him. 

"I don't know you..."

His smile fell. He reached out to her again, but a sudden toss of the ship sent them both off their feet. He grabbed the railing to keep himself steady, and just barely missed Adeljtsä's hand as she slid to the opposite side of the small desk. She hit the aftmast of the ship hard, and lifted her head to find the trapdoor right in front of her.

Ignoring the man's protests, she strained to lift the iron grate, and made her way down into the ship. She had to find the captain.

It was drier below deck, at least from the rain. Adeljtsä stepped in a puddle as soon as she touched the ground, but she couldn't help but shake how it didn't feel exactly like water.

"Adeljtsä?" Someone called. She turned. All she saw were pirates, familiar pirates, locked in swordfight with each other. They were fighting their own crew. Did they know? It couldn't have been that dark.

"Adeljtsä." Her name again, this time right behind her. Adeljtsä whipped around and found herself face-to-face with a deep blue tunic. Her breath was sucked from her lungs when she looked up. She remembered. 

"You're not real," she whispered. "You're not real. You're _dead_."

Avashe smiled down at her. "Adeljtsä, I'm right here. How can I be dead?"

"No, no, no, no, you're fake! You're dead, I watched you die!" Her voice broke on the final word. Adeljtsä clenched her fists at her sides, whipping around to look for the captain, "Where are you? This isn't fair! This isn't fair, stop it! Please!"

She cried out when she felt pair of hands on her arms. Diving away from the feeling, she nearly found herself caught under the blade of a cutlass, but she was grabbed roughly and pulled to the side. She looked over and saw a pirate with jagged facepaint holding her arm in one hand and fending off another pirate with the other. It took her a moment to realize that he was actually protecting her.

"You're not--" Adeljtsä gasped, confused by the obvious rule break, "you're not supposed to touch me."

"You've mistaken me for a part of Makara's crew, lass." The pirate said, "Go on, get out of here before you're hurt." He pushed her away and advanced on his foe, who screeched something like "mutiny" before being run through.

She took off again. Avashe was no where near her, thank god. The next flight down took her into almost pitch darkness. A few lanterns hung from the ceiling, and Adeljtsä jumped to grab one, ignoring the burning in her hands when they closed around the glass.

The sounds of fighting were much duller here. This was where the gunpowder barrels and cannonballs were stored, so there was hardly enough room for a skirmish anyways. Still, she had to find the captain. Adeljtsä walked on, stepping over a few bodies here and there.

"Ade?"

She froze. 

"Ade, is that you?"

Slowly, she turned and held the lantern up. She was greeted by Avashe's face peering down at her.

"Go away." She hissed through gritted teeth. She could feel the tears building up in her eyes, her heart in her throat. "Stop doing this to me." She was so cold. So tired. 

Avashe reached for her, a pained expression on his face. She turned away from him. "Please, Ade..."

"Don't call me that!" Adeljtsä turned with a furious shriek and swung her lantern. The metal base connected with a heavy crack. She held it out shakily to see the damage, and a hundred memories came back to her at once. 

On the ground, Taoma was in a crumpled heap. His hair above his ear was matted, honey blonde turning to a freshly dark red.

Adeljtsä barely mustered a sound. The lantern crashed at her feet as she backed up, both hands clasped over her mouth. Her back touched something, and she suddenly found herself wrapped in the captain's arms. "Very good, Dorlapsi."

"I didn't m-mean to.." She hiccuped a sob and put her sleeve over her mouth and nose.

"I know you didn't," The captain ran his hand over her hair, twirling the short ends between his fingers. "I apologize for using Darkleer against you. It won't happen again. However, I need you to do one more thing for me."

He stepped back and took her hand, turning her around. The lanterns around them burst to life. In front of her, a man was tied to a wooden pillar. A strip of fabric in his mouth prevented him from speaking. Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes, staring up at her pleadingly. She knew him.

The captain pressed a gun to her palm. "Kill him for me, will you, Dorlapsi?"

Eraltan shook his head as Adeljtsä raised the gun towards him. The longer she stared at him, the more she felt. The worse she felt. She knew him. She _loved_ him.

"I can't do this."

"Why not? You took out the tall one easily. This one should be simple." The captain placed his hands on hers, adjusting her aim. "Shoot him." He said, "Shoot, and I'll never hurt you again."

"You're lying to me." Adeljtsä squeaked. 

"I would never, Dorlapsi."

"What if I miss?"

"Here," the captain went to Eraltan and grabbed him by the chin, holding his head steady. He made a motion with his free hand, and Adeljtsä's gun moved slightly, aiming on its own. "I'll make it easy for you. All you have to do now is just pull the trigger."

Adeljtsä only focused on Eraltan staring at her. "And you'll never hurt me again..." She mumbled. She closed her eyes and relaxed. 

And shot.


	11. (Mourning)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck it's over!! Oh my god thank you to EVERYONE for sticking with me on this!

Adeljtsä did not dare open her eyes. The floorboards beneath her creaked with the weight of a body collapsing. Something wet and too familiar pooled around her feet, and she had to force herself to not be sick when she looked. Just like she thought, a puddle of blood had trailed its way towards her. Adeljtsä waited for the captain's hand on her shoulder, a praise, something to snap her out of the frozen state she was in. Against her permission, she looked up. 

The captain was face down on the hardwood. A bit to his side, Eraltan was still restrained to the mast, staring at her. 

All at once, Adeljtsä felt a strong rush of wind go past her, buffeting her hair and making her steady herself for balance. She thought she felt a hand atop her head for a moment, a belt of short nooses catching the corner of her eye. White smoke trailed from her gun a hundred times over.

A small pair of arms went around her waist, hugging her. Adeljtsä looked down to find a girl barely taller than she was. The girl wore a blindfold, but somehow Adeljtsä could feel her eyes burning into her when she looked up. She mouthed something with a smile before removing her arms and walking to another figure Adeljtsä didn't recognize.

A touch on her other side caught her attention, and she turned away from the girl to see. She barely remembered him. "You're not a bad kid," the wiry pirate told her. "Unlucky, but not bad." He left in the same direction the girl had gone towards.

"I'm so proud of you." said a voice directly in front of her. Adeljtsä felt a kiss against her forehead as a blue tunic slowly materialized. She didn't look up at Avashe, only moved forward to hug him tightly. "Go to him." He said, becoming more intangible by the second. She clung to him tighter, not wanting him to leave. It was only when she couldn't feel him anymore did she open her eyes. 

"Adeljtsä?" She snapped to the sound of her name. Eraltan was there, watching her. Every memory she had of him came flooding back.

She ran to him and began untying the ropes keeping him in place. "Adeljtsä, are you okay?" He asked. 

"He was a witch." She rushed through the words, overwhelmed with the sudden amounts of emotion she felt for him. "He was a witch." _And I was just a poppet. The spell he had is broken._ "He can't control me anymore, he's dead." Adeljtsä stopped. "He's dead. He made me kill him--?"

"No, love." Eraltan took her face gently in his hands. "I saw you. You moved the gun yourself. You got control back at the last second."

Adeljtsä dropped her voice to a whisper, "I killed him." Tears fell without her realizing, but she was smiling brightly. Eraltan stood up, bringing Adeljtsä to her feet with him. She inhaled sharply and ducked away when he moved to hug her. 

"Sorry." She said quickly. "Sorry, sorry, I..." She trailed off, having no excuse that she wanted to tell him. 

"It's okay," he seemed to understand. "We should go."

Someone came thundering down the stairs at that moment. The pair turned, and Adeljtsä bounded forward to the man, calling, "Socorro!"

He nearly tripped over himself at the sound of her voice. " _Mija!_ You remembered me, finally! I knew you would." He said with a grin, taking her hands in his. Socorro glanced at the floor and moved away slowly to kneel by a slumped figure on the ground. "Hey, _compañeros_... " Adeljtsä turned slightly to watch after him and put her hands over her mouth upon seeing Taoma still out cold, being lifted up gingerly by Socorro. She had almost forgotten.

"Oh, god," squeaked Adeljtsä, "I didn't-- Is he okay?" She moved closer and kneeled to check, but Eraltan stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She glanced back up at him and put her hand over his.

"A nasty bruise, but he's alright." Socorro commented, brushing Taoma's hair away to inspect the lantern wound. He took the blond's arm and slung him over his shoulders before turning to the couple. "We should get going."

"The crew?" Eraltan indicated to the upper deck with his head.

"All aboard," Socorro confirmed with a nod. "They're planning on sinking the ship after we're off. The dinghy is still waiting for us." He headed off, leading the way. Carefully, Eraltan helped Adeljtsä to her feet. They hesitated for a moment, just looking at each other. Adeljtsä reached out and put her hand on his chest.

She murmured, "You're real." To which Eraltan responded to by taking her hand and kissing it. Adeljtsä cracked a smile. Slowly but surely, she could feel the weight of six years lifting away from her. She would need more than nine lifetimes over to forget what she had seen, had felt, had done. As much as she wanted to curl into Eraltan's arms and never let him go, she couldn't bring herself to just yet, not until she was safe. Leaving the ship was just the first step. Part of her didn't even want to go.

The captain's death and subsequent restoration of the memories he had been blocking from her allowed her to remember her interactions with Avashe. _I'm going to get you off this ship._ He had said to her. He had done it. Adeljtsä grinned to herself, finally able to think of him without tears. She still missed him, so much, but being able to hear his voice tell her how proud he was of her was closure enough.

"Let's go." Eraltan said as he lead her towards the stairs. She trailed behind him, still a bit hesitant.

"Home?" She asked softly.

"Home." He confirmed.

" _You're not going anywhere._ "

A weight fell around Adeljtsä's foot, stopping her. She took a deep, shuddering breath as she looked over her shoulder. The captain had her by the ankle, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. The most horrifying thing, though, was the glazed-over eyes and gray, sunken features. He really was dead.

"I'm leaving." She said defiantly. Eraltan stopped in his tracks upon the captain's movement, but Adeljtsä motioned with her head for him to go. She could handle this.

"You've got nothing," Makara sneered. He was breathing heavily and obviously in pain, "You're mine, Dorlapsi."

Adeljtsä bit her lip, before swinging around and kicking him in the side of the head with her free leg, "I'm not yours!" He shoved her away, making her fall back, and reached out to grab her. His grip slid off the ink that had been previously spilled on her forearms, allowing her to pull free and back away from him.

She reached behind her and took off her collar, throwing it to the ground. "I'm not anybody's. And you can't tell me what to do anymore!"

"Dorlapsi..."

"I'm not your Dorlapsi." Adeljtsä grabbed a lantern from above her and threw it at him. Just like with the pirate from before, the Captain's facepaint caught the flame and ignited. He howled in pain and stumbled back. Adeljtsä saw the fire rolling towards the barrels of gunpowder, and she made a beeline for the stairs. 

The minute she stepped onto the main deck, her vision lit up in red, then black. She was weightless.

# ~*~

The lack of oxygen was what woke her up. She was slipping into the ocean, barely held up by the empty shell of a barrel. Adeljtsä flailed to an upright position where she was mostly out of the water.

It was still lightly drizzling. Behind her, the storm clouds had rolled along, and between her and the horizon was the Sea Goat. In flames. Sinking. Half of the keel blown right off. Adeljtsä's stomach twisted as she looked at the massive, charred hole in the ship. What if she had been below deck when that happened? Did everyone make it off the ship?

In a panic, Adeljtsä turned around in a desperate attempt to see anyone else out on the ocean. She saw another ship, a smaller one than the Sea Goat, with the Spanish flag waving from it. A bit closer, a tiny rowboat was making its was toward her. There were two figures on it, one of them hunched over and the other one alternating between rowing and waving frantically at her. She tried to push herself towards them.

A splash behind her made her adrenaline spike, and she fully expected to see the captain when she turned around. Instead, she saw Eraltan. He was coming to from unconsciousness, and the plank of wood he was being supported by started to capsize when he shifted.

"Don't move, Eraltan!" She found herself paddling towards him, praying that he wouldn't go under. The shell of the barrel keeping her afloat was starting to leak water in and soak the bottom of her dress. "Please, just hold on."

She was moving away from the rowboat, mostly likely away from safety, but she couldn't leave him. Eraltan stayed still as she instructed him to, and they took each other's hands once they were close enough. 

"My love..." Eraltan mumbled groggily. 

"Let's go," Adeljtsä briefly rested her forehead against his, before pulling back and pushing against the plank he was on. It drifted in the water, slowly but surely towards the other boat. Her barrel was starting to fill with more water to the point where she had to stop every so often to move handfuls of it away from her. 

"You're sinking." He noticed. 

"I know. I'll be fine. We're almost there."

Also immediately, she leaned too far forward and found herself neck deep in shock-cold water. She screamed in surprise and gripped the wooden plank. Eraltan's hands fell on her own, and she felt him sway back to keep them both balanced and out of the ocean. The saltwater burned. She was made violently aware of every wound she had. Adeljtsä shifted her weight and started kicking in the water, determined to get Eraltan to safety. She couldn't see the rowboat behind him, but she heard faint voices yelling for her.

"Adeljtsä..." Eraltan's grip was weakening. He was slipping back into unconsciousness. The explosion must have really taken a toll on him; Adeljtsä briefly felt bad for being the cause of it. She noticed he wasn't calling her Dorlapsi, and she wondered if it was because he knew what her reaction would be.

"I've got you." She repeated, softer this time. She couldn't swim, could barely keep them moving forward. As she felt herself get heavy with exhaustion, she realized she would capsize them both if she kept going like this. Adeljtsä closed her eyes and rested a moment with her head against the board. Her hands were aching from trying to keep herself afloat.

She stayed like that for a few second to regain her energy, then gave the board a final shove. Her head went under the water. She barely felt Eraltan's fingers attempt to grab her.

Sunlight filtered in through the waves, allowing her to see the silhouette of Eraltan drift closer to the rowboat. She feebly kicked her legs, not wanting to look down at where she was drifting. A shadow passed over her and she closed her eyes. He was safe, that's all that mattered now. He wouldn't have to look for her anymore.

The shadow got bigger. It was hard to tell if it was due to the lack of sun under the water, or if she was passing faster than she thought. Adeljtsä's mind wandered back to her time on the Sea Goat. Six years in the company of pirates. She thought about her initial desperation to get away, her constant wishing for death, for freedom. She was drowning. The captain was dead and she was free. And she was dying. And she was okay.

It hurt less than she thought it would. Her lungs burned, but she figured her resignation was what prevented her body from forcing a way to the surface. Her hands and feet were numb and it was crawling up her arms, her vision was tunneling. She had gotten the freedom she wanted, she knew she was ready to finally die, so _why couldn't she just die faster_? She didn't want to die scared. 

But she was scared. 

A hand gripped the back of her dress. Adeljtsä's eyes flew open as she felt herself being pulled upwards, a strong pair of arms around her waist. Air never seemed like such a luxury before she broke the surface. She fought for it, fought to keep her head above the waves, fought to live. She heard Taoma's voice next to her.

"I've got you, Ade. I've got you."

She was hoisted over the edge of a small boat, where she briefly saw Socorro before he directed her into a seat. A blanket was thrown over her shoulders and she pulled it tight around her.

"Ade..." Taoma rested his head on hers, wiping away the tears that were coursing down her face. "You're safe, it's okay. You're safe." She curled in on herself, holding her knees to her chest and trembling. Socorro put a comforting hand on her shoulder for a moment, then pulled it away so he could pick up the oars and start rowing them towards the larger boat. 

Beyond Taoma, Eraltan was coming back to consciousness on the other side of the boat. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, drawing then attention of the other three. "My beloved," Adeljtsä leaned towards him, and Taoma held her shoulder so she wouldn't topple over. "You're alive."

"Adeljtsä!" He suddenly snapped to full focus, "I thought you were gone. I thought I lost you..." He went towards her, arms open for a hug, but stopped short. He had an apologetic look on his face, clearly remembering her evasive reaction from before. "Sorry, I--" She rushed forward and kissed him. She buried her hands in his dark hair, not wanting to ever let go. He hesitated before wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close.

"I love you." She gasped as she broke the kiss.

"I love you, too, Adeljtsä. Forever."

# ~*~

When Socorro had mentioned other people aboard his ship, Adeljtsä hadn't expected it to be half of the entirety of Makara's crew. She ran to Dualscar and Redglare with a cry of happiness and surprise and was met with an embrace from both of them. The two former Skeleton Crew members were joined by nearly a hundred other pirates, facepainted or not, most of them tending to some kinds of wounds. There were plenty mourning those lost in the battle, friend or otherwise. Adeljtsä notice Smiley holding to herself, her own facepaint struck with tears.

"You stole my idea to blow up that goddamned ship, Leijon." Dualscar scolded her jokingly, accompanied by a swat to her head. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're going to need to learn to be nice, Captain Ampora."

"I won't make any promises."

Adeljtsä grinned, then turned to Redglare. "The girl," she said quickly, "The one you told be about. Did she wear a blindfold?"

"Yes," the First Mate stuttered, "How did you--?

Adeljtsä's smile grew. "She's okay. I promise you."

Redglare returned with a soft smile of her own. "Thank you, Dessie."

"Can I ask, what happens now?" Eraltan announced himself, stepping up. They all exchanged glances. No one seemed to have planned this far ahead. "Well," he continued, "In Socorro's words, this ship is mine. And you, sir, certainly can't be a proper captain without a boat of your own." Eraltan directed towards Dualscar. "I want to give you the ship."

Dualscar was lost for words. He shook Eraltan's hand firmly. "An honor, sir. I'll treat it with care the best I can."

"It's the least I can do. A 'thank you' for keeping Adeljtsä safe." He put an arm around his wife's shoulders, and she leaned into his side happily. Dualscar gave her a bit of a look, a silent question about Eraltan's knowledge of the main person who had looked after her during her time on the Sea Goat. Adeljtsä smiled in return. An assurance. Eraltan directed his attention to her. "Are you ready to go, my love? We'll be going to meet up with Mother in Greece. I think I'm going to start keeping my missions a bit more local."

"Good." Adeljtsä said. "Part of me never wants to see the ocean ever again."

Eraltan ruffled her hair with a grin before turning to Dualscar. "Ready when you are, Captain."

"Then we can set sail now." Dualscar nodded, "Redglare, go stand on watch!" The First Mate went off, and he turned to Adeljtsä, "How would you like to come help me steer? It'd be good for you to be in control of something."

Adeljtsä looked out over the green-blue waves, the sun drifting higher above them. Wind rippled around her dress and hair, reminding her that she was tangible, this was real, and she was alive. At last, she didn't see anything purple.

"Yes. Thank you, Dualscar. I think I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! Thank you again for reading, but mostly for joining me on this adventure. I hoped you all liked it! I know I did. Feel free to leave any questions you have about the end, or just plain old comments telling me what you liked best! I'll hopefully be writing more stuff somewhat like this in the future. As for now, The Sun Will Not Fall Bleeding is done. See you guys all next time around.


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